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ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 



ABROAD 
IN A RUNABOUT 



BY 



A. J. AND F. H. HAND 



ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS 
BY THE AUTHORS 




CHICAGO 

A. C. McCLURG & CO. 
/ 1911 



o\^\ 






COPYBIGHT 

A. C. McCLURG & CO. 
1911 



Published, October, 1911 
Entered at Stationers' Hall, London, England 



PKESS OF THE VAIL COUrAKY 
COSHOCTOK, U. S. A. 

€'CI.A30(!218 



DEDICATED TO 

MRS. CHARLES REED 



INTRODUCTION 

It is difficult for any automobile owner to define 
the mental workings that brought him within that 
class: the fever is so insidious, its culmination in 
ownership so sudden, the justifications for the pur- 
chase given are so often far from the fact, that one 
might as well admit, in the first instance, that he was 
obsessed, and that the purchase was made without 
any real reason or necessity and without any clear 
conception of the responsibility that the ownership 
involved. 

The first days or weeks after becoming the owner 
of a machine are taken up with learning to drive and 
manage it, with covering well-known roads and lo- 
calities, and usually at about the time that these things 
have lost their attraction the first tour is taken. 
Then the real purpose of the car is discovered, and 
thereafter the owner becomes an unmitigated bore, 
or a most interesting companion, as his revelations 
concerning the roads, distances, hotels, scenery, and 
repairs are recited, depending entirely on whether 

[vii] 



INTRODUCTION 

he is among non-owners or those who have enjoyed 
as he has, the unexplainahle pleasure of starting 
somewhere and in spite of adverse conditions of 
roads, weather, and machinery, arriving. "No owner 
can be counted an automohilist until he has toured, 
and no one who has toured is ever thereafter other 
than an automohilist. One tour completed, every 
other use of the machine sinks into insignificance, and 
to plan longer and more complicated trips becomes 
one of the greatest joys of existence. 

We, in a two-cylinder runabout, entered this 
charmed world and from the date of our initiation, 
when for ten hours our brave little car bucked the 
sands of Michigan, hub deep, and after laboring over 
sixty miles of the worst roads in the world, landed 
us at our destination, tired and dirty but satisfied, 
we were lost, given over to the charms of the open. 

To tour over unknown ways, to discover, to meet 
the rubs of the road and be equal to them, was the 
one good and logical reason for owning the car ; con- 
venience, pleasant little runs, were thenceforth noth- 
ing; we became then and there automobilists in the 
fullest sense of the word. 

This first tour led to others, that took us over good 
roads and bad, through beautiful scenery, to throng- 

[ viii ] 



INTRODUCTION 

ing cities, along winding rivers, and over hills, as 
well as through the flat lands and gumbo roads of 
Western States, in bad hotels and good, until out of 
season we planned what in season we executed, and 
gradually became, as we believed, competent to han- 
dle car, roads, and ourselves in any emergency, in a 
manner satisfying to our complacency. 

We had been abroad, we knew the lure of the Old 
World and, travelling there, had felt the annoyance 
and handicap of being bound to fixed itineraries, and 
of hurrying past hundreds of things, that, by their 
attractions seemed to beckon to us through the car 
windows, but which were not such as to justify the 
interminable loss of time involved in the use of 
local trains, and so had to be regretfully resigned; 
we had driven a little over there and knew the fasci- 
nation of the splendid roads, so, naturally were at- 
tracted to accounts of motor trips in Europe, and 
while not believing such a pleasure within the pos- 
sibility of chance for us, we nevertheless read every- 
thing that could be found upon the subject. With- 
out exception big cars were used in these books and 
descriptions, and in nearly every case the foreign 
chauffeur was at the wheel. 

Just when the idea took form that possibly we 



INTRODUCTION 

two, in a runabout, could tour Europe, we do not 
know; it was of such gradual growth and came so 
slowly that when we first were conscious of it, we had 
acquired a world of information, and knew fairly 
accurately what was required. 

A rainy Sunday and a Michelin Guide seem to 
have been the things that fixed our determination to 
enter upon the undertaking. 

Then no thought of writing an account of our trip 
existed, but later, as the days — untroubled, delight- 
ful, healthful days — flew by, and all went well, as 
necessary expenses proved not excessive and happiness 
and profit seemed so great, we thought of the many 
small car owners, who, for want of first-hand informa- 
tion as an impetus, were losing what the summer was 
bringing to us, and we determined to give them the 
benefit of our experience; simply, and with no at- 
tempt at literary style, to show them how easily, 
cheaply and comfortably the trip can be taken, and 
by a plain, unadorned tale to convince those who 
hesitate, that a tour of Europe can be made with only 
a small car and within the expenditures of the usual 
trip abroad. 

That we saw much well worth seeing, yet not 
usually seen, and in an intimate way not usually ex- 
perienced ; that the. inconvenience, worry and annoy- 



INTRODUCTION 

ance incident to railway travel were eliminated, and 
that a feeling of adventurous exploration and dis- 
covery were ever present and often justified, we be- 
lieve, that, these pages will disclose. 

The Authoes. 

Sprii^gfieli>, III. 
Jun^, 1911. 



[xi] 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTEB PAGE 

I Introduction vii 

I The Start 1 

II Havre to Rouen 8 

III Rouen and Beauvais . 19 

IV BEIA.UVAIS to Heidelberg 30 

V Heidelberg to Rothenburg 51 

VI Rothenburg, Nuremberg, Augsburg .... 67 

VII Munich and Oberammergau 80 

VIII The Bavarian Highlands 101 

IX Lake Constance 115 

X Falls of the Rhine, Zurich, and Lucerne . . 126 

XI The Alps to Lake Geneva 133 

XII Lake Geneva and Lyons 143 

XIII Le Put and the Cevennes 151 

XIV The Rhone and Avignon 164 

XV The Pont du Gard, Nimes, and Arles . . . 180 

XVI Les Baux, St. Remy, The Crau and the Ca- 

margue 194 

XVII Montpelier, Perpignan, Mont Louis and Car- 
cassonne 210 

XVIII The Pyrenees 226 

XIX Through the Heart of France 243 

XX Blois to Tours 270 

XXI Tours, Langeais, Azay le Rideau, Chinon, 

Angers 285 

XXII Mont St. IVIichel. and Falaise 298 

XXIII The Last Run 311 

XXIV Suggestions 319 

Index 345 

[ xiii ] 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



PAGE 



" Ox teams are slow " Frontispiece i" 

" There are always kindly, courteous people who gladly set 

one right" 12 ' 

Richard the Lion Heart's " Daughter of One Year " . . 22^ 

" The green island in the shiny, winding river and the 

little town cuddled up to its tiny church " . . . . 22 •" 

" A picturesque old red-tiled city 34 ^ 

" The magnificent view from our window " 46 

" More like an elaborate toy than a real city " . . . . 46 ♦ 

" We counsel those who love to live sometimes in the past 

to visit the Donjon of Coucy " 54i^ 

" Always up among the hills and over perfect roads " . . 64 '^ 

" It was exceedingly picturesque, with sharp gabled ends " 72 ^ 

" The peaceful life of the village " 72 *''" 

" A strikingly quaint old town " 86 ^ 

" Now one sees it in all its former glory " 102 v^ 

" With a tiny stairway at one side leading to the top of 

the wall " 102 »^ 

"Memories haunt thy pointed gables" 116 '^ 

"Quaint old tovm of toil and traffic" 116 *^ 

" Jolly old Hans Sachs " 130 '/ 

" Nuremberg is interesting " 144 '/ 

" An incredibly abrupt pinnacle of rock, crowned by the 

tiny church of St. Michel d'Aiguilhe " 156 *^ 

" A vision of Old World Germany " 166 , 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

" Each as neat as a pin, the whole laid out in streets and 

looking like the cottage system of some sanitarium " 166 

" The Gasthof zum Hirsch and its English-speaking pro- 
prietor " 174 

" One lifts the eyes to their summits with a pleasure in 

their beauty " 174 

" The scene was like the drop curtain of a theatre " . . 188 

The cattle fair 200 

" The spring, in low water a quiet pool " 208 *' 

" The miniature cascades of the new-born river " . . . . 208^ 

" A long line of ruined wall stretching about an empty 

court" 214 >-' 

" We arranged that Madame would remain on the bridge " 214" 
" It is hard to believe it other than a modern municipal 

building" 228 ' 

" It is constructed without the use of cement or mortar " 228 ' 
" The prison, once the Castle of King Ilen6, across the 

Rhone" 236 

" We took a picture of a kilometric stone for a souvenir " 244 

" Its ruins speak in no hesitating voice of the past of its 

order " 248 

" Which now wears out a peaceful age as a home for mis- 
sionary priests " 252 

" The old fort glowers harmlessly over at the Papal city " 256 

" Overhead in the old tower, birds nest in the harmless 

machicolations " 256 ' 

" Men were sweeping and sprinkling it " ...... 264 

" Where the rock makes the walls of the buildings and 

where man's work, it is hard to tell " 264 

" Many rocky streets and sagging stone doorways " . . 278 • 

" A weird view of rocks and cliffs which Mistral believed 

suggested to Dante the architecture of his Hell " . . 278 

" The whole aspect of the town is more like that of Morocco 

than France" 290 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

" The tranquil river, the long low ferry, and — the left 

front wheel of the auto " 300 w^ 

" The walls form a rectangle six hundred yards long and 

one hundred and fifty wide" 300 

" Their load consisted of a low skeleton of a cart that held 

six enormous casks of wine " 312 '"^ 

" It is a natural tunnel under a mountain" 316 '^ 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

CHAPTEE I 

THE START 

IT is not difficult, if one possesses unlimited means, 
to take one's car and travel abroad; but for the 
small car owner, with a moderate income, real prob- 
lems exist. To determine where to go, what to see, 
and how to get the most out of every dollar, requires 
careful consideration. 

We soon determined not to undertake the British 
Isles; we had in former visits seen much of them. 
Travelling there seems less foreign and costs more 
than on the Continent, and our time was limited. 

Investigation convinced us that for our purposes 
Havre was the most available point at which to land 
the machine, as several lines of freightboats stop 
there, whose rates are much lower than those of the 
speedier passenger vessels. After more or less cor- 
respondence with other companies, we made an ar- 
rangement with the American Express Company 
covering the packing, transportation of the car, and 

[1] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

passing it through the customs from Chicago to 
Havre and back. 

The steamship rules require cars to be crated in 
well-constructed, weather-proof boxes and packed in 
such manner that thej can be up-ended or turned 
over if necessary without injuring the car, and, as 
these boxes can only be constructed by persons fa- 
miliar with the requirements and necessities, any 
shipping arrangements made should include this 
service. 

We delivered our car to the American Express 
Company in Chicago, about July 1, and gave our- 
selves no further concern for it ; it was to be in Havre 
by July 27, the date of our arrival, and we were 
assured that, barring accident, it would be there. We 
preferred to sail on the Lusitania, disembarking at 
Fishguard, thence crossing England and the Channel 
from Southampton to Havre, as in this way we could 
save from two to three days, and time was valuable. 

The night of July 25 found us at Eishguard and 
let us drop a word of warning, a first " Don't." Do 
not arrange for the Eishguard landing. We were 
late in arriving (steamships always are), and reached 
London at three o'clock in the morning, where the 
station hotel at which we had expected to get a room 
was full, so that we were obliged, at that hour, to 

[2] 



THE START 

search for a place to stay. Had we gone on to Liver- 
pool we should have had a good night's rest and been 
in London in plenty of time to have taken the boat 
from Southampton for Havre and much better pre- 
pared than we were for that awful crossing. 

At the station in London we were assured that a 
wire had been sent reserving a cabin on the Channel 
boat for us, but on our arrival, discovered that every 
stateroom had been reserved for two weeks, and that 
while " Madame " could be given a berth in a small 
room with nine other ladies, " Monsieur " must sleep 
on the deck, whereupon Madame, with visions of a 
rough passage and too close quarters with nine sea- 
sick women, elected to stay on deck also. 

We scurried — the word is accurately used — after 
a steward, and by tipping and much persuasion finally 
secured two steamer chairs, a number of blankets and 
pillows, and a protected comer of the deck, with the 
understanding that as soon as we put to sea, the lights 
would be extinguished; and there we made a night 
of it. 

In spite of discomfort, we did sleep some, and were 
sleeping at seven in the morning when we entered the 
harbor at Havre, where, as we watched the light 
brighten over the high cliffs of the city, we could but 
wonder if our little car was waiting for us and 

[3] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

what length of time it would take to clear her for 
action. 

We had nothing to declare at the customs, and were 
soon following an old porter with our trunk and suit- 
case on a wheelbarrow to the Hotel Admiralty, 
selected because of its nearness to the dock. We 
were assigned the room which Victor Hugo occu- 
pied on his visit to Havre, served a breakfast of 
rolls and chocolate, and then started for the office 
of the American Express Company, through queer, 
crooked streets, where parrots shrieked, and sailors 
from the ends of the earth loitered and jested, for 
old Havre de Grace is an important port and car- 
ries one-fifth of the commerce of France. We ar- 
rived before the doors were open and spent a half- 
hour looking at the beautiful private yachts in the 
slip near by, which we were afterward told had been 
practically abandoned by their owners for the 
superior charms of the automobile. We followed the 
clerk who opened up and were explaining with some 
difficulty what we wanted, when a rosy-cheeked boy 
of fifteen or sixteen stepped up and asked in English, 
in a business-like way, if we were the owners of the 
little car which had arrived yesterday on the Bou- 
logne. He informed us that it was at the garage 
unpacked and ready, with the exception of putting 

[4] 



THE START 

in the water, oil, and gasoline, about wliich they de- 
sired instructions, and offered to go at once with 
us so that these things might be done ; on the way he 
gave us much general information, among other 
things saying that ours was the smallest car ever 
received by the Express Company. 

At the garage we found it, washed, polished, bear- 
ing proudly its French numbers, and surrounded 
by the same curious crowd that would be present at 
the unpacking of a French car on this side. The 
quick detachable tires were much admired; the idea 
seemed new over there, and was seized upon through- 
out France as a good one and most practical, and 
after seeing the labor involved in the removal of their 
tires, from fixed rims, loaded with stay bolts, we do 
not wonder. 

A taxi was called, the auto trunk and Madame 
sent to the hotel, that she might transfer to it, and 
to the large suit-case, such things as we could not 
get along without. The boy glibly translated Mon- 
sieur's instructions, and soon the car was ready ; with 
one turn of the crank it started as sweetly as it 
had the last time, four thousand miles away in Illi- 
nois, and out on the crowded street, the boy working 
the exhaust whistle overtime, it went. 

Maps were to be purchased, all of the series of the 

[5] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

Cartes Taride which covered our itinerary in France 
and Switzerland, the French driving license must be 
viseed, hj the German Consul, to be good in Ger- 
many, the Express Company settled with, and it was 
noon before we knew where the time had gone. 

The boy was to meet and put us on the right road 
at two o'clock, meanwhile the little car waited in 
front of the hotel, the auto trunk and suit-case 
tightly strapped on the deck. In the car's regular 
equipment, this deck had held the gasoline tank, 
but we had had it put under the seat, thus leaving 
plenty of room for the baggage. Our steamer 
trunk, now packed with the things we did not need 
until our return voyage, was sent to the Express 
Company to be stored ; and it remained only to take 
luncheon, pay the bill, don duster and goggles, and 
we were ready for the start. 

The boy appeared promptly, we climbed in and he 
seated himself on the floor of the car with his feet 
on the running-board and announced that he was 
ready. The hotel force called '"^ Bon Voyage/' the 
boy sounded the horn, we made a careful turn in 
the narrow street, slowly worked our way to the Post- 
office, there to mail letters announcing our depar- 
ture, and were off. 

E"aturally we had had some doubts and anxieties, 

[6] 



THE START 

but the car seemed undaunted, the boy questioned 
not, the whistle wailed constantly, and the day was 
fair; so, as we left Havre, we felt a return of confi- 
dence and a belief in the success of our venture. 



£7] 



CHAPTEK II 

i^AVRE TO BOUEN 

THE apple-cheeked boy left us at the edge of 
Havre, pointing out our road, and we started 
off alone, feeling very much as Columbus must 
have when the last gulls left him and skimmed back 
to the Spanish waters. It was all so new to us! 
Even the car was hardly more than well tested, not 
yet proved; nevertheless, each trying to seem per- 
fectly at ease, we rolled on through Harfleur, our first 
town, then through St. Remain, thence to La 
Remuee, where we went astray and had our first in- 
quiries to make and our first retracing to do, for- 
tunately not far ; then on to Lillebonne, whose pretty 
Gothic church tempted us to get out for a short in- 
spection. Just out of Lillebonne, which was one of 
the most northerly Roman cities, there are some re- 
mains of an old amphitheatre, but we did not care so 
much for it as for the nearby ruined tower in which 
William the Conqueror first laid before his nobles his 
scheme for the conquest of England. Part of the 
place is still in good preservation and other bits show 

[8] 



HAVRE TO ROUEN 

that it was once a large fortress. The whole is now 
included in the grounds of a handsome modem villa, 
in whose big kitchen we were invited to register. 
We did it, though as a rule we avoid these oppor- 
tunities, but this chance to see the fine tiled room, 
with its neat servants and shining pots and pans, was 
too good to be missed. Then we went on again, 
through a beautiful country, where the cows, all teth- 
ered out in such a way as to keep the grass eaten off 
evenly, amused our prodigal Western eyes, though 
we realize that time will force this new world to the 
same saving device. The many goats, the walled 
substantial farms, the cider orchards, planted from 
twenty-five to a hundred trees to the acre, of which it 
is said that their origin is " lost in the night of time," 
the fine big horses, hitched three and four tandem, the 
thickly thatched cottages, — these, and a hundred 
other things claimed our admiration, so that it was 
hard to go on from moment to moment. 

"Next came Caudebec en Caux, the artist's paradise, 
and again we stopped, and wandered about, leaving 
the car in the stony little market square, one end of 
which was blocked by the beautiful church of Our 
Lady. Both before and since we have seen beautiful 
churches, but none more entirely satisfying to the 
eye. It is so richly sculptured in every part that no 

[9] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

one detail stands out; even the gallery, which spells 
in carved Gothic letters verses from the anthem of the 
Virgin, seems but a riot of lovely fancies like the 
rest. 

There is a tiny stream, the Eiviere Ste. Gertrude, 
which is overarched by age-darkened timbered 
houses, probably none less than five hundred years 
old, in many shades of brown. They bend and 
bulge and lean, but Heaven grant that they may 
stand another ^ve hundred years, to delight and to 
teach humility to our wandering countrymen, whose 
first thought is always, in spite of honest effort to the 
contrary, " Why, that was before America was dis- 
covered ! " Yes, when America was only an undis- 
covered wilderness, these houses were here much as 
they are now ; then, as now, people pulled up water 
from the glancing stream in pails to the second story ; 
children dropped chip boats onto its flood and shrill- 
voiced neighbors bobbed their heads above and chatted 
as lightly here as they do to-day. It is at Caude- 
bec that occurs at the fall and spring equinox the 
Mascaret, or sudden tidal wave which rushes up the 
Seine six to ten feet above the ordinary level of the 
water, a sight that attracts hundreds of visitors each 
year. 

We had not long to stay, but the town and its en- 

[10] 



HAVRE TO ROUEN 

virons merit a week at least, and shall have it if 
ever we go that way again. Very near here is the 
turn leading to the ancient ahbey of St. Wandrille, 
founded in 670 ; hut, though expecting it, we missed 
it, and no doubt foolishly enough, did not go hack, 
as we assured ourselves that the ruins of the Abbey 
of Jumieges are finer, and they must be. 

We cannot see how any ruin can be more pictur- 
esquely beautiful. True, we have never seen '^ fair 
Melrose aright," and if ever we are so fortunate we 
may change our minds, but surely not until then. 
The ruins lie in the grounds of the chateau of Madame 
Lepel Cointet, and visitors are admitted until Rye 
o'clock. We were a little late, but either our win- 
ning smiles or the good heart of the portress led her 
to admit us, and we have not ceased to be grateful. 
The main part of this majestic and gracious ruin con- 
sists of some of the aisles and the west front with two 
great towers, a supporting arch, bits of the choir and 
many smaller fragments. The stone is a soft rosy 
gray, and the whole is tenderly veiled and over- 
grown by mosses, vines, and shimmering leaves, as 
if Mother Nature did all she could to soften the 
ravages, that time and still more destructive man have 
made. This, was a very famous abbey founded in 
the seventh century by St. Philibert, and maintained 

[11] 



ABROAD IX A RUNABOUT 

for eleven hundred years. It sheltered at one time 
nearly a thousand monks, and here the Dukes of Nor- 
mandy and the Kings of France had right of shelter. 
We were shown a slab which once covered the heart 
of beautiful Agnes Sorel, and a stone from the tomb 
of Nicholas Leroux, fifty-ninth abbot of Jumieges, 
and one of the Tribunal that condemned Joan of Arc. 

The terrible harvest of the French Revolution 
laid low the Abbey as it did so many other lovely 
things and though the natives may and do bless it, 
and rejoice in its fruits, to the stranger, hunting for 
history and beauty, even forgiveness comes hard. 

The summer days were long, but by the time we re- 
luctantly quitted the stately old ruin the shadows 
were lengthening and we were yet too new to the 
roads and the customs of the country to take any 
chances on being out after dark, especially without 
carbide, so we hurried on to slumberous little Du- 
clair. This is a tiny town with but two interests, its 
half-hourly ferry, or hac^ and its excellent Hotel de 
la Poste, whose proprietor well merits the silver 
medal accorded him by the Touring Club of France. 

Our room was a model of neatness; our lavatory 
had running water; our dinner, on the balcony over- 
looking the quiet Seine, was most delicious, and on 
returning from a walk through the town, our solitary 

[12] 



I 



HAVRE TO ROUEN 

candle lighted us merrily to bed, where we slept 
soundly, awaking in the morning refreshed and eager 
for another day's run. 

Here is certainly the place for a few words as to 
the roads. They are perfect, — absolutely smooth, 
without stick or stone, culvert or puddle; white, and 
planted with trees on either hand. They are marked 
at every kilometre by stones indicating the class 
and number of the road, the town just passed, and 
the distance to it as well as the one to come and its 
distance, and the department in which it li^. Rail- 
way crossings, sharp turns, and dangerous descents 
are marked far in advance, and at the entrance to 
each town is given the speed limit to be observed 
within its borders. Intersections are infrequent; 
the many road signs are helpful and easily learned, 
and it is not difficult, by a little attention, to keep 
in the right way, while if one does go wrong, there are 
always near at hand kindly, courteous people who 
gladly set one right. 

!N'ext morning we took breakfast on the balcony 
again, which gave us an excellent chance to observe 
the great traflSc that plies up and down the river, 
tugs with long strings of freight barges coming past 
every few minutes. One with the familiar name 
Erie steamed along, all unsuspecting that its low 

[13] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

black hull did " certainly look good " to the two 
people lingering over their breakfast at the hotel in 
dreaming little Duclair. After perhaps an hour of 
loafing and one of work on the car, we started for 
Eouen, a short but charming ride of twenty kilo- 
metres. 

The first part of the way lay between the river 
and the low chalk cliffs whose soft sides have been 
hollowed by troglodytes, or cliff dwellers — a sight 
we had not expected to see until we reached the Loire. 
These houses, dug out of the living rock, are quite 
interesting, but are very simple after all. The cliff 
makes a dry and comfortable abode, as well as an 
economical one, top and bottom, sides and back be- 
ing furnished by nature free of charge. Sometimes 
windows and chimneys are put in, and horses, mules, 
and cows, as well as their owners, are safely 
sheltered. In many parts of France these cliffs are 
particularly prized as cellars for ripening cheese 
and wine, being very dry and subject to little change 
of temperature. About half way to Rouen we 
branched off to see, at the uninteresting town of St. 
Martin de Boscherville, the ruined Abbey of St. 
Georges de Boscherville, which, it is claimed, held 
in its palmy days ^ve thousand worshippers. Its 
church, dating from 1050 to 1066, is still preserved, 

[14] 



HAVRE TO ROUEN 

but about tbe place tbere is none of the charm of 
Jumieges, and we did not stay long to see it. 

A little farther, and we entered the long aisles of 
the Forest of Roumare, which covers many acres 
and extends almost to Rouen. 

Here we had an inspiration. Why not take the 
already much desired luncheon at the village of 
Genety, of which we had read and which lay deep- 
hidden within the heart of the great forest. There 
was some discussion about the advantages of pushing 
on, enjoying the forest as we went, yet reaching 
Rouen and a proper hotel for luncheon, but with the 
charms of Genety so alluringly near, it seemed folly 
to rush past, so we turned back to find it. Every- 
one has read of the delights of hunting in a beau- 
tiful forest, but let us here and now observe that it is 
not what one is led to expect. We hunted, beating 
up and down and back and forth, turning in alleys so 
narrow that we almost had to back up the trees to 
do it, getting deeper and deeper in the woods and 
growing hungrier every minute, but drawing no 
nearer to food. There were few people to ask, and 
they could give us no help, nor did the occasional sign 
board. Finally we met a man who spoke with such 
confidence that we felt reassured and followed his 
directions, along a path which brought us at length 

[15] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

to a solitary cottage, where we found a diminutive 
old lady and asked again for the village of Grenety. 
^^ Mais, vous y eies!" ("But you are there") was 
the prompt reply. "Is this all?" "All? Well, 
no; there are two or three more houses a little far- 
ther on." " But is there a restaurant — can one 
have luncheon there ? " And then the sprightly old 
woman, with a shrug of exhausted patience, said 
she had never heard of any restaurant, although 
she supposed that at times people must eat in the J 
village of Genety the same as in any place else; 
and turning, she trotted off and into her house, leav- 
ing us not quite " alone and thirsting in a land of 
sand and thorns," but almost as uncomfortable as if 
we had been. Silently we accepted what she said, 
and in silence accomplished the difficult turning 
around, the doublings and twistings necessary before 
we could get to the main road again, and silently, 
stoically, we endured the pangs of hunger which 
grew more and more sharp, each resolving in silence 
to go on no more silly hunts for hidden places, at 
least when we were hungry. 

Then suddenly the view of Eouen from the heights 
burst upon us, and made us forget all our little 
troubles in its beauty. This is a wide and justly 
famous view. Some even claim it to be one of the 

[16] 



HAVRE TO ROUEN 

most satisfying in the world. The broad river 
curved lovingly around the island, and farther on the 
bridges, steeples, and towers of the city, all bathed 
in the clear sunshine, made a striking picture. 

We delayed long enough to take a photograph, 
then ran on until the octroi officer stopped us to ask 
if we had any poultry or produce on which duty 
should be paid. This octroi is a nuisance and an ab- 
surd one as well. It exists in most of the important 
cities of France, and is primarily a tax on food 
brought in from the country. The belief seems to be 
that in this way the country people are made to pay 
toward the city revenues, but a little thought would 
show that it is the townspeople who really pay the tax 
in the increased price to them of the food. But this 
time it was not such an unmitigated nuisance as later 
often it was, for after going through the usual " Noth- 
ing to declare ? " and the reply, " Nothing to declare," 
we asked the high and mighty looking officer where 
we could find luncheon, and he told us, thereby sav- 
ing us time, so that very shortly after driving down 
the handsome quais we brought up in front of the 
Cafe Victor and there had an excellent meal, tasting 
for the first time the merlans with which afterwards 
we became familiar. Merlans are little fish, per- 
haps twice as big as a sardine, which are fried, about 
2 [17] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

six or seven of them being strung on a skewer through. 
the gills, and served delicately brown and piping hot. 
They would be delicious if they contained more meat 
and were not all bones, eyes, tails, and skewers. Per- 
haps we are over particular, but if so it is a later 
growth; that day there was no protest — even the 
skewers had a narrow escape. 

The little car was an object of great interest to 
the diners and passers-by, and when we left the table 
it seemed too bad to take away a thing that was so 
much enjoyed by so many people. 

While eating luncheon, we had debated as to which 
hotel to choose, and since the only pictures that 
memory brought to us from our reading of Eouen 
were those of the Cathedral and the Grosse Horloge, 
or big clock, we decided to stay as near to them as 
possible ; and the Hotel du ISTord, a short block from 
the former, and next door but one to the latter, 
proved just the place we wanted. 

The swarming street was not more than ten feet 
wide, and we felt that nothing but a miracle would 
enable us to drive down it, turn at right angles al- 
most under the clock belfry spanning the street, and 
get into the courtyard of the hotel without killing or 
maiming somebody. But finally it was achieved, 
and we W€re safe in our big quiet room. 

[18] 



CHAPTER III 

ROUEN AND BEAUVAIS 

YESTERDAY'S first homage to the l^ormandy 
cider, which is said to be bad for the teeth 
and which, to our certain knowledge, is bad for some 
other things, had left its undesirable effects, so we 
rested and slept an hour or two before going out to 
see the sights, the first of which was naturally the 
tower of the Great Clock. This was built in 1389, 
has a large sculptured dial on each side, and is rich 
in every part with curious carvings. Next came the 
Palace of Justice, the exquisite church of St. Maclou, 
the place of the execution of Joan of Arc, and the 
old Hotel Bourgtheroulde. This is a large and hand- 
some building begun near the end of the fifteenth 
century, which though now a bank, seems really at 
times to have been an hotel in our understanding of 
the word, but if much is definitely known of its 
history, the books and guides keep the secret well. 
Its principal point of interest is the wonderfully 
carved panels in its court, representing the meeting of 

[19] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

Henry YIII and Francis I at the Field of the Cloth 
of Gold in 1520. 

An early traveller calls Ronen " an ugly, stink- 
ing, close, and ill-built town," and possibly it was, 
but to-day it is greatly modernized, almost too much 
so to suit us, we thought. But after dinner we went 
out for another walk, and this time found the really 
picturesque labyrinths of the old quarter, and 
wandered till dark in the narrow streets, where the 
ancient houses, like old cronies, lean toward one an- 
other as if sociably recalling the days of their youth. 
Who knows that from these very windows people did 
not look out upon the Maid as she was led to her im- 
prisonment ? Perhaps these dark streets had their 
share in the hubbub which made it necessary for 
William the Conqueror, coming here after his in- 
jury at Mantes, to be removed to St. Gervais, farther 
out, where it was more quiet; perhaps down these 
winding ways his faithful servant, Herlwin, took his 
body after his death, on the ninth of September, 
1087, on its way to burial in the abbey at Caen, which 
he had founded, little dreaming that there, as it was 
being lowered into the grave his body was to " burst, 
filling the sacred edifice with corruption ! " 

Rouen is said to be the richest of all French cities 
in mediaeval history, and to the stranger, it offers 

[20] 



ROUEN AND BEAUVAIS 

much food for thought. I^ext morning we went to 
see the mile and a half of fine quais, the marvellous 
cathedral in which a tablet records the baptism here 
of Robert Cavelier, dear to Illinoisans under his title 
of La Salle ; the church of St. Ouen, the town hall, the 
Palace of Justice again, which is almost as fine as 
the town halls of Belgium, and the tower in which 
Joan of Arc was tried and condemned. Thence we 
went back once more to the old market square, where 
a slab marks the place of Joan of Arc's execution in 
1431. 

Here, so impregnated with history is the air of the 
old city, that even in the orderly quiet of the twentieth 
century it was not difficult to reconstruct that whole 
dreadful day. Our own leonine yet gentle-hearted 
Mark Twain has given us the scene in a few words, 
and we quote from him : " When the fires rose about 
her, and she begged for a cross for her dying lips to 
kiss, it was not a friend, but an enemy — not a 
Frenchman, but an alien, not a comrade in arms, 
but an English soldier, that answered that pathetic 
prayer. He broke a stick across his knee, bound the 
pieces together in the form of the symbol she so 
loved, and gave it to her ; and his gentle deed is not 
forgotten, nor will be." One is reminded of Brown- 
ing's, 

[21] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 



« 



'T was a thief gave the last kind words to Christ ; 
He took the kindness and forgave the theft/' 

After leaving here we returned to our hotel and 
mailed back to Duclair the key of our room which 
we had carelessly carried with us the day before, 
rolled the car out on the narrow street again, and 
started on, realizing that we had done but scant 
justice to the old Norman capital, yet feeling already 
the call of the unknown, and responding gladly to its 
enticing voice. Our first stop was to be at Les An- 
delys, or more accurately, at Petit Andely, for there 
are the ruins of Richard Coeur de Lion's famous 
Chateau Gaillard, or " Saucy Castle," — his '^ daugh- 
ter of one year." 

It is an imposing ruin, having one main tower, or 
part of a tower still and vestiges of great out works, 
and we felt that we could realize the sense of triumph 
with which the Lion Heart must have flung his de- 
fiance to the Archbishop who had forbidden his build- 
ing it; and to Philippe Auguste, who was trying to 
get the country away from him. It was a marvel of 
strength, with many towers and three circles of strong 
walls, and was built in the days before ISTormandy was 
part of French territory and subject to the Kings of 
France, to defend the important traffic of the Seine ; 

[22] 




RICHARD THE LION HEART'S " DAUGHTER OF ONE YEAR " 

[ Page 22 ] 




THE GREEN ISLAND IN THE SHINT. WINDING RIVER AND THE 
LITTLE TOWN CUDDLED UP TO ITS TINY CHURCH " 

[ Page 23 ] 



ROUEN AND BEAUVAIS 

a traffic still vastly important, though many people do 
not realize it or know that the river is navigable be- 
yond Paris and that it carries a heavy volume of 
trade. 

We left the car in a street of the village, where two 
women sewing inside of an open window volunteered 
to watch it. Having passed their place, we had to 
back up, making in the close-walled street so 
much uproar that it seemed a shame to invade their 
peace with such snortings and then to ask them to 
keep charge over the monster that had made the 
disturbance. 

The day was perfect, and when we reached the top 
of the hill after a sharp climb, the gray broken ruin 
seemed in some way like a feeble old dog keeping 
jealous watch over the bone which he was no longer 
able to hold or defend. We took pictures and 
loitered a while, delighting in the loveliness of the 
scene, the green island in the shining, winding river, 
the clean-cut roads running in all directions, and the 
little town cuddled up to its tiny church, all silent 
and apparently forgetful of the fierce days when the 
siege of this gaunt castle had laid the country waste 
for miles and brought suffering and death to thou- 
sands, many of them doubtless the ancestors of these 
placid villagers. Finally we came down, thanked 

[23] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

tLe needlewomen for their kindness, bought the unfail- 
ing post cards, and went on our way rejoicing, real- 
izing afresh the great charm of that historic interest 
which calls Americans to Europe in crowds and from 
which they get full returns for the millions of good 
dollars with which annually they keep the machinery 
of the Old World going. 

The air was balmy in our faces, the sky blue above 
us, and almost before we knew it we had reached 
Gisors, a most picturesque old red-tiled city with a 
ruined castle dating from 1097, which was so in- 
teresting that we climbed up to inspect it. 

There were originally twelve towers, of which lit- 
tle can now be seen; one, however, the Prisoners' 
Tower, still stands and contains three stories, in the 
lowest of which are rude carvings in the stone, made 
by Poulain, for twenty-two years a prisoner here 
under Louis XI. There are still to be seen the shal- 
low finger and foot holds which he dug that he might 
climb up nearer to his one small window to breathe 
a better air and catch a glimpse of the light. The 
carvings are largely of religious subjects, and are 
mostly in those places where a flitting sunbeam fell 
from time to time. Poor soul, twenty-two years! 
How he must have watched for those golden moments ; 
how he must have treasured up the very leaves, if 

[24] 



ROUEN AND BEAUVAIS 

sometimes thej fell through, the narrow opening, as 
the J do to-day. 

A lively old dame was the custodian, and she 
showed us nimbly up and down with a sputtering 
candle. The old ramparts are now laid out in charm- 
ing, shady promenades, much enjoyed by ancient gos- 
sips and rollicking boys and girls, to whom the ac- 
count of Henry II's meeting with Louis VII in these 
crumbling halls in 1175 for the conference which 
led to their crusade would be as so much Choctaw if 
they were ever to hear of it, which they never will. 

From Gisors to Beauvais is only about twenty 
miles, and we covered them quickly and stopped at 
the Hotel de France et d'Angleterre, none too good, 
but evidently the best in that not very savory or at- 
tractive town. 

In our youth we learned that thrilling poem in 
which the spider says : " The way into my parlor 
is up a winding stair," but this hotel far outdoes 
that other establishment, for here the way into our 
bedroom was up four winding stairs and down at 
least three, and when Madame went to take her bath 
before going to bed she told the solemn boy who con- 
ducted her that she would certainly either need a 
chart to get back by or else have to ring for him. In 
the end she did meet him loitering about the hall, 

[25] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

and was glad to see a familiar face, after such a 
journey. Whether or not he had waited all that time 
for her, we never knew. 

It was, indeed, a family hotel, though not quite as 
we understand the term. The master and mistress, 
several small children, the servants, numberless cats 
and dogs, and a fat woolly puppy seemed always play- 
ing or quarrelling in the court, the dogs even coming 
to the guests at their tables to beg for a share of the 
food. 

In the morning we found we had acquired a flat tire 
over night. It was a great nuisance to pump, and 
yet was evidently going to be a frequent necessity, 
so after toiling for fifteen minutes we left the car 
to itself and went off to see the sights, lamenting that 
we had no engine pump and that we could not 
get a Michelin Air Bottle in Beauvais. We found 
the queer old streets more dirty, if not more inter- 
esting, than those of Rouen. There is a large 
tapestry factory here, only two years younger than 
the Gobelin works of Paris, which turn out some 
very beautiful things, so delicate that four and a half 
inches is a day's work for a good workman. 

The Hotel de Ville we did not fancy, nor yet the 
statue in front of it of Jeanne Hachette, who, in 
1472, during the struggle with the English, took from 

[26] 



ROUEN AND BEAUVAIS 

them, with, her own hands, a banner which to this 
day hangs in the town hall and is greatly prized. 
The event is annually celebrated on the Sunday near- 
est St. Peter's Day. And here, though we did not 
dream of it, within a stone's throw of the statue, 
stood Luck holding out her hands to us, for when we 
turned, a flaming red and white garage sign caught 
our eyes, and though the Michelin guide did not say 
that they kept them we thought it might be worth 
while to ask here for a bottle of compressed air. 
These bottles, which cost about sixteen dollars, are a 
great help. They will fill six or eight tires and re- 
quire but two or three minutes for each, and can be 
exchanged at almost any town of size in France for 
sixty cents. We went over to the place, and in the 
gorgeous shop, decorated with mirrors and paintings, 
found a curly-haired young proprietor who had every- 
thing we wanted, even to a good, light cylinder oil, the 
name of which we noted for future use. It would 
take time to fasten the bottle securely on the running 
board, so while it was being done we went off, much 
relieved in mind, and happily oblivious of the absurd 
juxtaposition of ideas and mixing up of centuries, to 
see the cathedral. 

Only its choir and transepts have ever been 
or now ever will be built, but these are strikingly 

[27] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

and unusually beautiful. They are very high, 
and very purely Gothic. The figures are : two 
hundred and twenty-five feet to the ridge, the 
vaulting one hundred and fifty-seven feet above 
the ground, the windows fifty feet in height, but 
one gets more realization of its grandeur from 
Euskin, who says : ^^ There are few rocks, even 
among the Alps, that have a clear, vertical fall as high 
as the choir of Beauvais." The saying is that the 
choir of Beauvais, the nave of Amiens, the portal of 
Eheims, and the Towers of Chartres would, together, 
make the finest church in the world ; and we, having 
seen three of these four, can well believe it. There 
is a huge astronomical clock in the cathedral, but 
it seemed a paltry thing in that hallowed place, and 
we did not stay to see it perform, but went back to 
the garage, stopping on the way at a clean little shop 
to buy a luncheon to eat en route. 

It was raining when we returned to the hotel, from 
which we had intended to go on immediately ; so, as 
the tables looked tempting, each with a big hrioche 
and a dish of tiny very red strawberries on a bed of 
green leaves, we stayed until after luncheon. This 
bounteous meal is to the French the dejeuner or 
second breakfast, and one is perfectly ready for it 
by noon, after having had a first breakfast of hard 

[28] 



ROUEN AND BEAUVAIS 

rolls and wretched black coffee, which is supposed to 
be mitigated and made possible bj the addition of 
large quantities of boiled milk ! Later we learned to 
ask for une passoire, a strainer, and so were able to 
get rid of the sickening scum, which without it would 
slip into the cups and cling to the spoons in spite of us. 

The hrioches, by the way, are a delusion. They 
look like delectable cushions of cake, but really they 
are greasy and absolutely tasteless. 

There is one thing, though, that is always good in 
these parts and through all France, and that is the 
cheeses — little cream ones that melt in the mouth ; 
luscious Brie or Roquefort and creamy Camembert, 
the like of which one never gets on this side of the 
water. 



[29] 



CHAPTER IV 

BEAUVAIS TO HErOELBEBO- 

AFTER luncheon, tlioiigh it still rained, we 
started on, hoping that it would stop ; instead, 
however, it increased, and about the time that we 
picked up another sabot nail some ten miles out of 
town it came down, sharply, to the scarcely hidden de- 
light of the carters who passed while we were work- 
ing in the mud. "We were not long, however, and 
reached Compiegne in plenty of time to see it before 
the closing hour. There is little of interest in the 
town, and we went at once to the palace. 

A big, bleak-looking structure it is, whose only at- 
tractive feature is the double colonnade, one hundred 
and fifty feet long, in front of the fagade. It has 
been occupied by several rulers since it was built 
under Louis XY, and here at one time Napoleon and 
Marie Louise lived, and here he built for her an iron 
trellised walk, three-quarters of a mile long, from the 
terrace to the forest, to remind her of her favorite 
walk at Schonbrunn, near Vienna. Most of this is 
gone now, and though the palace is furnished and ia 

[30] 



BEAUVAIS TO HEIDELBERG 

shown, it is remarkable only for its monotony and 
the number of its fine clocks, one in each of the 
many rooms. The only things that really gripped 
our interest were the little chair and the little, lit- 
tle harp of that " poor babe of France," the King of 
Rome. 

When we entered the chateau, we picked up an. 
honest-looking boy from the number who were al- 
ways in evidence, and installed him in the car, to 
keep watch over our books, maps, the Beauvais lunch- 
eon box, and other numerous belongings and when 
we came out we found him gravely occupying the 
seat and anxious that we should count everything to 
see that all were there. We assured him that we were 
confident of it, gave him a good tip, and offered him 
a ride, but he could not accept, as he had night work 
which would begin at five and it was almost that 
time. So we left him and rolled off to Pierrefonds, 
through another beautiful forest, that of Compiegne. 
It is fifty-nine miles in circumference, contains 
thirty-six thousand two hundred and seventy acres, 
and is criss-crossed by over three hundred and fifty 
roads in all directions, and under other circum- 
stances our short ride must have been a delightful 
one, but once more the clouds, which had somewhat 
scattered since our puncture, were piling up blackly 

[31] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

about us and we knew that the minutes were 
numbered in which we could loiter if we did not wish 
to be rained on again, so we hurried along, and 
just as the towers of Pierrefonds came into view, 
with a hiss, slowly the same tire went flat again! 
There was no time or place to mend it, so we bumped 
carefully the few remaining blocks and into the 
shelter of the Hotel des Etrangers, where, before 
long, our fears were justified and the rain came down 
in sheets. 

While Madame unpacked. Monsieur put in a new 
inner tube and sought vainly in a tub of water 
to find the hole in the other one that was so tiny but 
so effective. The magnificent view from our win- 
dow of the chateau did not altogether make up for 
the wretched dinner, the painfully unmodem toilet 
conveniences, the one feeble candle, the rain, chill, 
and damp, and the sense of lying powerless in the 
hand of misfortune, which a superabundance of tire 
trouble brings to even the stoutest hearts. 

We were both rapidly developing severe colds, and 
we went to bed with the family stock decidedly be- 
low par. The next day was Sunday, and though 
there is nothing in Pierrefonds to see but the castle, 
which we did in less than two hours, we decided to 
stay over all day, as it was still raining at intervals ; 

[32] 



BEAUVAIS TO HEIDELBERG 

the same tire was flat again, and we were anxious 
to get all the tubes repaired and give the colds a 
chance to mend. 

The chateau, built in 1390 to 1404, was one of the 
finest of its period, and though it suffered from war 
and pillage, it has since been restored by Yiollet le 
Due, so that now one sees it in all its former glory. 
There are eight huge loop-holed towers, fifteen to 
twenty feet thick and one hundred and twelve feet 
high, rising one at each comer and one in the mid- 
dle of each wall, and the machicolations, moat, 
portcullis, and drawbridge leave nothing to be de- 
sired, save only the feeling of age, reality, and 
history, which time alone can give, for it is practi- 
cally new — so complete has been its restoration. 
After seeing the castle, we found an auto and bi- 
cycle man who came and helped us, fixing up our 
tubes successfully, though it took him until after 
luncheon. 

Sunday afternoon is a fete day in Pierrefonds, and 
we sat on a bench by the lake and watched the peo- 
ple eating, rowing, chattering, and taking their 
pleasure after their week of hard work. One party 
we enjoyed especially, they seemed to be having such 
a good time ; there were several girls and men, one a 
red-trousered soldier, and they danced in a little pa- 
3 [33] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

vilion by the water^s edge. The music we could hear 
but did not see whence it came. It was evidently a 
small band, and the dances were short and very fast, 
so that the red legs pranced nimbly up and down in a 
circle getting vigorous exercise. There was a funeral 
also, and some sort of service in a neighboring church, 
from which little girls returned with wreaths of paper 
leaves on their heads ; two, evidently winners in some 
contest, proudly carrying their prizes, which appeared 
to be books of views. 

Everybody was happy, good-natured, and kindly, 
and when, at last reassurred as to our tires, we took 
a stroll and came upon a pretty villa sporting a 
physician's comforting sign to the effect that " the 
Doctor is of the Paris Faculty; the Doctor speaks 
English," our spirits rose again to almost their usual 
level. A good night's rest and an awakening to the 
consciousness of brilliant sunshine improved matters 
still more, and we started gayly to follow the repair- 
man's lucid instructions to " go straight out to a four 
corners where five roads meet, and then take the 
third one." This mathematical advice proved cor- 
rect, and led us in a short time to l^oyon — a queer 
old town, as stony as Pharaoh's heart and about as 
interesting to-day. It was once an important place, 
however, under the Prankish kings. Here Chilperic 

[34] 



BEAUVAIS TO HEIDELBERG 

was buried in T21; here Charlemagne was crowned 
king of the Franks in Y68, and here Hugh Capet 
was elected king in 98Y, while many years later it be- 
came notable again in 1509 as the birthplace of 
Calvin, the reformer. It has a beautiful cathedral 
of the Transition style, but it did not hold us long, 
and we went on to the majestic hill-crowning ruin 
of Coucy le Chateau. Concerning such places, surely 
no one was ever better fitted to speak than YioUet le 
Due, who says : " We counsel those who love to live 
sometimes in the past to visit the Donjon of Coucy, 
for nothing so well paints feudalism in its power 
and its warlike life as this admirable ruin. Com- 
pared with this giant, the largest towers known ap- 
pear mere spindles." This tower is a giant, indeed 
— two hundred and ten feet high, one hundred feet 
in diameter, and with walls in some places thirty-four 
feet thick; no wonder that the great remodeller tells 
us that it is " the finest specimen in Europe of 
mediaeval military architecture." It covered an area 
of ten thousand square yards and was built in five 
years, from 1225 to 1230, by Enguerrand III, who 
felt that it might be handy to have, if ever the mo- 
ment arrived when he could snatch the crown from 
Louis IX. This chance never came, and Enguerrand 
died while on a crusade. The story goes that he was 

[35] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

deeply in love with the Dame de iFajal, who so 
fervently returned his passion that when he felt him- 
self dying, he bade his squire have his heart em- 
balmed in spices, placed in a silver reliquary in- 
scribed with the words, " Thine till death and after," 
and take it to his lady love. But the lady's hus- 
band, intercepting the message, took the morsel, had 
it carefully cooked and served it to his wife, who 
devoured it gratefully enough, but died with horror 
when he informed her that she had eaten her lover's 
heart. 

Enguerrand's family motto was a striking one in 
its proud humility: " Roi ne suys, ne prince ne due, 
ne comte aussij je suys le sire de Coucy." (" ^o 
king am I, no prince, no duke, or even count : I am the 
Lord of Coucy.") 

We could not help but like the hoary old ruin bet- 
ter than shining Pierrefonds, which, by-the-way, is 
in the main built on the plans of this older structure. 
Perhaps the fact that Coucy is more remote and less 
frequented, has something to do with its charm. Be- 
sides ourselves there were only a few quiet native 
tourists, an intelligent guide, great masses of en- 
folding, protective greenery, one or two fleecy clouds, 
and the clear sunlight over all. It made a picture 
not soon to be forgotten even if we should never 

[36] 



BEAUVAIS TO HEIDELBERG 

look at the photographs that we bought of the gentle 
old lady at the gate, who had been doing her Mon- 
day's washing and who spared us some water for 
the machine. 

Once more we went on and made no further 
stops for sight-seeing until we came to Soissons. 
This is a considerable town commercially, and 
made famous by its haricot beans — those good 
green string beans which the French cooks fry 
so deliciously and which we have so often en- 
joyed. But to the tourist it contains little of inter- 
est, and after driving a while through the streets and 
admiring the graceful towers of St. Jean des Vignes, 
the principal part now standing of the abbey in which 
Thomas A Becket lived for nine years, we continued 
our way. A few miles from town we stopped and 
ate our Beauvais luncheon of a queer veal and ham 
pie, several buns, and cakes of various kinds; not 
at all a sumptuous feast, but enough, and we were re- 
freshed and ran on without mishap to Rheims, whose 
great cathedral towers served to guide us for miles 
before we could catch a glimpse of the city itself. 

We drove at once to the Hotel Continental, which, 
though Baedeker does not mention it, was both good 
and reasonable. We had a large second-story room 
with a dressing-room off of it for one dollar and 

[37] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

twenty cents a day, the use of a covered brick garage 
free, and meals for one dollar and forty cents each, per 
day, all good and with red or white wine included. 
In what large city in this country would four dol- 
lars a day secure for two persons so much comfort ? 

By this time Madame's cold had developed alarm- 
ingly, till she could hardly breathe or speak, which 
threatened to be serious, for a cold generally robs 
her of all voice during about three days, and as Mon- 
sieur does not speak French, and no one in the hotel 
knew a word of English, it behooved us to be care- 
ful. In the evening we took a long walk and saw 
the beautiful cathedral whose noble f agade is adorned 
with five hundred and thirty statues. It is one of the 
most glorious in Europe, but, as is so often the case 
with these old churches, it was undergoing repairs and 
much of its beauty was hidden by unsightly scaffold- 
ing. We saw also the park, the Arch of Mars, a 
Roman ruin at least as old as the fourth century, sev- 
eral monuments, the Hotel de Ville, and some quaint 
old houses, the finest called the House of the Musi- 
cians, and elaborately carved. 

Eheims is a great manufacturing center and has a 
long and brilliant history. Since the beginning of 
the Capetan dynasty it has been the place of corona- 
tion of the French kings, all but six being crowned 

[ 38 ] 



BEAUVAIS TO HEIDELBERG 

here, three of whom were never crowned at all. The 
town has an especial memory to us of the middle west, 
for here in 1619, was born Colbert, Louis XI Vs 
famous minister, for whom the Mississippi was 
originally named. It is a prosperous and wealthy 
city, great sums being annually paid to its wine 
dealers, for this is the heart of the greatest champagne- 
making district of the world. 

The car needed a little attention, so in the morn- 
ing we decided to put it into a public garage which 
we had discovered the evening before, and after a 
short ride, Madame, being more dead than alive, went 
up to the room to lie down while Monsieur took the 
car away, confident of being able to make its needs 
known. "Not more than twenty minutes had passed, 
and Madame had just fallen into a gasping slumber, 
when she was awakened by a knock and the excited 
voice of Monsieur urging, " Get up and dress ; I have 
a man here ! '' She staggered into her dress and was 
downstairs in a moment, to find a very debonair and 
courteous gentleman from the garage, who desired to 
know what it was that Monsieur wished done to the 
motor. Now, Madame's French is a great pleasure 
to her, and has been useful many times, but when 
one is almost prostrated with a cold, to be suddenly 
awakened from sleep and required to tell a handsome 

[39] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

young stranger that he is to grease the universal 
joint, clean the oil indicators, fill the reservoir with 
very light oil, put in fifteen or twenty litres of gaso- 
line, and wash the machine, but on no account and 
by no means to meddle with the carburetor — it is 
trying. He was a very polished gentleman, and he 
must have been an intelligent one, for in the end all 
was arranged, and later faithfully executed, to Mon- 
sieur's satisfaction. Once more in the room, the 
question could not be withheld : " How did you ever 
make him know that he was to come here with you; 
what could you say ? " " Well,'' Monsieur reluc- 
tantly replied, " I said, * Yous allez avec moi, ma 
femme parle/ '' It was worth it all. Madame has 
never begrudged that lost sleep ; surely such an effort 
deserved indeed that " ma femme " should "^ parle" 
even if circumstances were against her. 

In the afternoon wo took a carriage drive for three 
hours for the sum of one dollar and twenty cents, ex- 
clusive of the tip, which we were glad to make a good 
one, as our Jehu was particularly obliging. We went 
to the church of St. Remy, where Clovis was baptized 
on Christmas Day, 496, saw again the old houses and 
the cathedral, went to the Credit Lyonnais for some 
necessary funds, and then to another little hole-in-the- 
wall bank to get these exchanged into German money, 

[ 40 ] 



BEAUVAIS TO HEIDELBERG 

and lastly to the famous champagne caves of the 
Veuve Pommery Company, where it was said twelve 
million hottles of wine were ripening. These cellars, 
whose temperature is between forty and fifty degrees 
Fahrenheit, are over ten miles long, hollowed out of 
the cliffs, and visitors go there in great numbers to 
see the process by which the wine is made, which is 
very complicated as well as interesting. 

In the morning we left for Verdun at about half- 
past ten, after having had a lunch put up for us 
at the hotel which we ate as we rode along. We had 
talked of stopping at Ste. Menehould, at whose post- 
ing station, I^o. 8 Avenue Victor Hugo, Louis XVI, 
on his attempted flight from Erance, in June 1791, 
had the misfortune to be recognized by " Old Dragoon 
Drouet " when only about fifty miles from the fron- 
tier. Who can help feeling sorry for that well-in- 
tentioned young couple, called by circumstances to 
a task too high for them? It has always seemed to 
us one of the smallest and most unfortunate slips 
between cup and thirsting lips of which history tells. 
But we did not stop, as by the time we reached there 
it was raining hard ; instead, with only a long look at 
the house, now an insignificant gendarmerie, we went 
directly on, more than a little damp and chilly behind 
our glass front, and with the side curtains on, and 

[41] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

were glad when we finally reached Verdun, and drew 
up before the rather dingy-looking hostelry of the 
Bold Cock. Here, to reach the room they offered us, 
we had to go up and up and up, a thing that Amer- 
icans abroad, remembering the utter lack of fire es- 
capes and not being reassured by the fact that many 
of these hotels have stood for hundreds of years, hate 
to do (a prejudice, by the way, never understood or 
sympathized in by the European hotel keeper). 
When we promptly objected, we were given instead a 
room in the Annex, directly over the stable in which 
the car stood sociably enough between the good steed 
whose name. Bayard, was printed over his stall, and 
the tub in which the hotel maid was vigorously wash- 
ing the salad for dinner ! It was not late in the after- 
noon, and we took a walk about the town and through 
the pretty promenade of the dike, where old and 
young were enjoying the once more flickering 
sunshine. 

Verdun, though still entirely French, began to 
show plainly its nearness to the frontier, for there 
was a strong fortress and a large garrison of soldiers, 
of whom the streets were full. Though not large, 
the geographical position of the city has made it al- 
ways an important place. Here in 843 was drawn 
up the treaty which divided Charlemagne's posses- 

[42] 



BEAUVAIS TO HEIDELBERG 

sions among his three grandsons — a very note- 
worthy document, the first in which the French lan- 
guage is known to have been used. 

The town has been the scene of many conflicts and 
has had a varied and still a rather dull history. ' One 
page of it is, however, worth mentioning. In 1792 
the Prussians took Verdun, after bombarding it only 
a few hours, and the inhabitants, recognizing the use- 
lessness of further hostilities, gave them as cordial a 
reception as they could; among other courtesies, ex- 
tended, a number of young girls offered them some 
of the dragees, a sort of candy for which the town 
was famous then, as it is to-day. Later the French 
retook the place and three of these girls were put to 
death for what they had done. It is a true and a 
terrible story, and we could not help wondering if 
such fires are still waiting for a breath to stir them to 
fierce life, in the hearts of these seemingly kindly 
people. 

The dragees J of course, we purchased. They were 
a sort of hard-coated bird's egg candy, but where ours 
have an almond inside, these contained different sorts 
of softer candy or finely chopped nuts. They were 
good, as French candy goes, but that is the faintest 
kind of " faint praise." If they have any really de- 
licious candy there, it is imported from England or 

[43] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

America, for the French bon-bon, as we imagine it, 
is like the storks of !N'uremberg — very rarely 
seen. 

Our stay in Yerdun was short, but the memory of 
it proved liasting, for there in the Annex above the 
barn Monsieur acquired the fleas from which he was 
never quite free again until he reached Havre weeks 
and weeks later. It does not seem as if we ought to 
find too much fault with a hotel where the bill for 
two of us for dinner, wine, bed, breakfast, and garage 
was only two dollars and thirty cents, but we were 
unreasonable enough to wish that instead of the Bold 
Cock we had tried the Three Moors or the Little St. 
Martin, 

By half -past eight in the morning we were off again. 
The clouds were no longer quite so threatening, but 
before we had gone ^ve miles we had to stop to clean 
the spark plugs as they did not seem to be firing well, 
and when, within another ^ve miles, we had to mend 
a puncture, we began to feel that the luck was cer- 
tainly against us. It was only forty kilometres to 
Mars la Tour, where we passed the customs before 
going into Germany. The formalities were not 
alarming; on leaving France the customs officer 
merely noted the date of our departure on our 
French receipt; at the German office a rotund little 

[44] 



BEAUVAIS TO HEIDELBERG 

man arose bowing, from his luncheon, took our 
money, gave us a receipt, fastened a new number on 
the rear of the car, and let us go inside of five 
minutes. At Mars la Tour there was a large monu- 
ment commemorative of the sixteen thousand French 
soldiers who fell in the battle of Rezonville, August 
16, 1870. Two days later the neighboring field 
of Gravelotte took its bloody toll, the total number 
of dead on these two days being estimated at over 
sixty-five thousand men. The region for miles here- 
abouts was dotted with grave stones, and little piti- 
ful mounds, and though the prospect seemed fair 
enough we were glad to be getting out of this country 
of recent and horrible memories. 

In Metz we only stopped for our mail and to buy 
a box of luncheon, which later we ate in the shadow 
of another monument by the roadside. 

It was but a few miles across the German line be- 
fore the change became noticeable in many ways 
other than the language. The fields were better culti- 
vated, less brilliantly red with poppies among the 
wheat, the roads were not so good, and the people 
less agreeable about the autos, to which they were 
plainly not so accustomed. Whereas in France, at 
one sharp whistle they would instantly leave a way, 
often the whole way, if they were on foot almost 

[ 45 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

climbing the trees in their haste to escape intact — 
here they yielded slowly and grudgingly. 

Men, women, children, cows, and dogs were work- 
ing in the fields, or on the roads, often carrying or 
pulling appallingly heavy loads. And here we first 
observed what for weeks afterwards we noticed — 
the great number of crippled and deformed persons. 
Without doubt this hard work of the mothers, 
coupled with the poverty, remoteness and ignorance, 
which leave a large per cent of births to the care 
of ignorant midwives, must be responsible to some 
extent for so deplorable a state of things. 

Little boys, middle-aged men, and tottering gray- 
beards, wearing wire goggles to protect their eyes 
from the flying particles, were breaking up the piles 
of stone with which the roadsides were dotted and 
which, when small enough, were applied to the roads, 
making, after a time, an almost perfect surface. 

The villages were poor and very dirty, mostly with 
solid stone walls and pavements, and were full of 
reeking piles of manure, quarrelsome, screaming chil- 
dren, barking dogs, and hissing geese. 

As we went farther east we climbed and descended 
more noticeable slopes, the road twisting in exquisite 
curves, through a country increasingly timbered and 
increasingly desolate. It was more like the remoter 

[46] 




" THE MAGNIFICENT VIEW FROM OUR WINDOW 



[ Page 32 ] 




MORE LIKE AN ELABORATE TOY THAN A REAL CITY " 



[ Page 66 ] 



BEAUVAIS TO HEIDELBERG 

stretches of the Michigan woods, than like one's idea 
of cheerful over-populated Germany. 

All day the sky was a swiftly changing picture, 
one moment piled high with billowy white clouds, 
again thick and ominous, as if a few more miles 
would plunge us into a heavy storm, and then in a 
moment all swept clear and blue by the fresh bal- 
samic wind, with the bright sun shining serenely 
over long reaches of hills and valleys to an enticing 
far horizon. 

We passed in quick succession lumber camps, char- 
coal burners' huts and hideous villages until, just as 
the sun was dropping behind the hills we came to a 
sudden halt in the main street of Hauptstuhl, with 
the rear tire flat again. This time the clouds were 
looming black behind us and we jumped out and 
went to work, hardly taking time for the customary 
grumbling. 

As usual, a crowd of children gathered around us, 
silently examining every inch of the car and every 
tool that we laid down. Among the group a crip- 
pled woman, in a tricycle, watched with dull, hope- 
less eyes all that we did. We tried to draw her into 
conversation, but she seemed shy or sullen and we 
could get nothing from her. Perhaps our rapid car, 
our quick, purposeful movements, our interested 

[47] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

faces, and our broader life, were in snch painful con- 
trast to all that her world held that she had no heart 
to chat with us, and who could blame her ? Many a 
time since we have thought how level and wearisome 
must be the path over which her tricycle must carry 
her — how few the rifts will be in the low-hanging 
clouds that must shut in her life. Though the im- 
pression has been lasting, our stop was unusually 
brief; while Monsieur pushed the tool bag into the 
hood, Madame made her customary final tour about 
the car to hunt for mislaid tools, and we sprang in 
and were out of sight before the little crowd had 
scattered. We raced the rain then, and beat it, 
reaching Kaiserslautern, dirty and tired, but satis- 
fied with the day's run, the longest we had made so 
far, of one hundred and twenty-five miles, of which 
much more than half had been covered since noon. 

Kaiserslautern, though of fifty-four thousand in- 
habitants, proved a very unattractive industrial town, 
and after the conditions which we had observed all 
day and even in the streets of the city itself, we 
were by no means prepared for the English-speaking 
hotel people, the waiters in correct dress suits, and 
the big luxurious room with shaded reading lamps 
beside the beds, which we found at the Hotel 
Schwan. We were too tired for more than dinner 

[48] 



BEAUVAIS TO HEIDELBERG 

and a short walk, and went to bed if not literally with, 
them, at least as early as the leggy cranes below our 
windows. 

In the morning before starting out at ten o'clock 
we walked through the town and bought six of the 
excellent Mittelbach road maps, our French Tarides 
being no longer useful, and when we became ac- 
customed to these German maps we found them if 
anything superior to the others which we had pre- 
viously considered perfect. 

The run of seventy-six kilometres to Heidelberg 
was lovely, about half of it through the Diemersteiner 
forest, now beside a babbling river, now in full view 
of the ruined stronghold of some old robber baron, 
but always up among the hills and over perfect roads, 
the car's rapid motion fanning into our lungs the 
invigorating odor of the pines. It seems prosaic to 
confess that in such delightful circumstances we 
should have had to study the guide-book, not for 
dates and details of heroic adventures, but for a 
good place in which to lunch, yet truth forces us to 
admit that so it was, and on reaching Diirkheim an 
air-cure station, or Luft Kur Ort, we ran into the 
grounds of the Hotel Park, where we had an excel- 
lent meal and were glad to get it. 

This was a charming place, but the clouds were 
4» [49] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

coming near again, and we went on rapidly to Mann- 
heim, where, as we were vainly trying to find our way 
out of town, the rain overtook us and we had to pull 
to one side of a husy street and put up the top and 1 
curtains. The shower did not last long, and before 
we reached Heidelberg the sun was out and the roads 
almost dry again. 

i 



[80] 



CHAPTER Y 

HEIDELBEEG TO EOTHENBUEG 

HEIDELBERG is full of hotels, and we knew 
nothing of any of them, but went to the 
Schrieder and found it good, and reasonable in price. 
For the first time now a charge was made for the 
garage, a custom as general in Germany as it is ex- 
ceptional in France. 

It was still early and we went for a walk through 
the city whose interest, aside from the castle, centres, 
of course, in the famous University, the different 
halls, and departments of which were pointed out to 
us by a guide. We enjoyed the old and the new 
prisons ; in which students seem delightedly to suffer a 
voluntary and blissful detention, but the spirit of the 
jest we failed entirely to catch ; also, we saw numer- 
ous men whose badly disfigured faces told of the re- 
nowned student duels and of the wounds, which, it 
is said, are torn open and filled with red wine to make 
the scars more permanent, and again we admit that 
to us it seemed more silly than heroic or amusing. 
The mere tourist gets no idea of the real worth and 

[51] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

dignity of this venerable seat of learning, but goes 
away after seeing the little that is shown, feeling as 
if he had been fed upon stones when there was plenty 
of good bread to be had. 

That evening the hotel was full of Americans, al- 
most all " personally conducted,'' one party number- 
ing twenty, and one thirty-five. They all seemed to 
be having a good time and to enjoy their entire free- 
dom from responsibility, but we liked so well conduc1> 
ing ourselves that we did not envy them. 

In the morning we drove up to the beautiful castle, 
the largest ruin in Germany. The oldest portions 
date from the fourteenth century and it was the resi- 
dence of the Elector Palatine, but from 1689 to 1693 
the French had possession of it and by fire and gun- 
powder reduced it to its present condition. It is 
magnificently situated on a height overlooking the 
IsTeckar and the Hhine valleys. 

The great wine tun constructed in 1751 is in the 
castle. It is certainly huge, we were told that it 
would hold three hundred thousand bottles of wine. 
One is reminded of Mark Twain, whose books on 
European travel should be graven on the hearts of all 
American tourists. He says of this tun : " It is a 
wine cask as big as a cottage and some traditions say 
that it holds eighteen hundred thousand bottles and 

[ 52 ] 



HEIDELBERG TO ROTHENBURG 

other traditions say it holds eighteen hundred mil- 
lion harrels. I think it is likely that one of these 
statements is a mistake, and the other a lie. How- 
ever, the mere matter of capacity is a thing of no 
sort of consequence, since the cask is empty, and in- 
deed, has always heen empty, history says. An 
empty cask the size of a cathedral would excite but 
little emotion in me." The gardens of the castle 
are enchanting, rich with moss and vines and trees 
of many varieties, and from many lands, among them 
one lone California redwood, but the attraction of 
the place is greatly lessened by the perfunctory man- 
ner of the people who show it. Our guide was a 
second Miss Blimber, and had been so long bored to 
death with her own tedious repetitions of its history, 
that she went far towards spoiling it for us and we 
were glad to drop our tip into her lifeless fingers 
and escape. 

It is, of course, shocking not to be or profess to be 
enraptured with all these old places of which one 
hears so much, but we say frankly that we did not 
care at all for Heidelberg. The only thing except the 
castle that we enjoyed there was the passing of troops 
of soldiers in the dim mistiness of the morning. 
There were many of these cavalcades and where they 
went or for what purpose we did not know ; it was the 

[53] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

manner of tlieir marching that fascinated us. Some 
had bands of military music that stirred the blood in 
even our foreign veins, some went in a silence, made 
only deeper by the regular clank and shift of their 
equipments and harness, while others moved to the 
measure of a weird low chanting that seemed to 
emanate from and appeal to something untamed and 
primitive in the human heart. 

Germany is apt to have rainy summers, or at least, 
many showery days, and by the time we had returned 
from the castle the skies opened again and it rained 
in perfect torrents. We were determined, however, 
to get away from Heidelberg, to some place that had 
a real life of its own and did not depend upon and 
exist for the great American dollar, so after lunch, 
the rain stopping somewhat, we started for Rothen- 
burg on the Tauber by way of Wiirzburg, a long de- 
tour necessitated by the roads as marked on our 
charts. It was too wet to make rapid running pleas- 
ant, so we did not plan to get to Wiirzburg that night, 
but decided to go until we were tired and then to 
stop at whatever little village might be convenient. 
The road lay at first beside the Neckar and on a 
fair day must be very pretty, though in the rain it 
was far from attractive. 

About ten miles out of town we came to a place 

[54] 



HEIDELBERG TO ROTHENBURG 

where the road menders obliged us to go around 
through the fields for half a mile, as they were put- 
ting the top dressing on the roads, and had spread it 
all the way across — a thing unheard of in France, 
where only one side of the way is finished at a time, 
thus allowing for the autos; but this was only an- 
other proof that autoing is not so general in Germany 
as it is in France, where the rights and comforts of 
the motorist are more considered. 

We pulled along for a while and then saw a sud- 
den sharp rise, which, because of the mud, we knew 
would be impossible to climb without chains, so we 
stopped in the rain to jack up the car and put them 
on, trying at the same time to keep clean enough to 
be received later in a reputable hotel. The situation 
was not particularly pleasant, nor was it made more 
so when, presently, a German car with four passen- 
gers drew in behind us and the owner got out and 
roundly berated us for blocking his way. We as- 
sured him in the most forcible, if not the most courte- 
ous, German at our command, that we were not doing 
it as a hygienic precaution and that we would get out 
of his way as soon as possible. He fumed about a 
while, commenting most unfavorably on our chains, 
and then said that if we would stand to one side he 
would pull past us. Experience with Illinois mud 

[55] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

had made us wise, and we told liiiii that he could not 
make the slippery climb. But he scorned us and 
started up. For a minute all went well, and then he 
stuck fast. The men and boys, who had by this time 
gathered, did all they could to push him free, but 
in the end a team had ^;o be found and hitched on 
and he was dragged to the top, where he was able to 
go alone. The owner of the team waited hopefully, 
but we disappointed him and by the aid of our chains 
climbed the greasy slope and on to the highway again. 
Gradually the road ascended to about fifteen hun- 
dred feet and wound through the beautiful forests of 
the Odenwald, where the silence of ages seemed to 
reign. The tall straight trunks of the firs rose far 
above us and now occasionally pale gleams of sun- 
shine sifted on to the deep beds of moss or pine 
needles, and insensibly our ruffled spirits were calmed 
by the peace of the scene. Finally as we were pull- 
ing up to the highest point, a rise of about seven hun- 
dred and fifty feet in six miles, we came on a doe and 
her fawn standing in a little glade, evidently wonder- 
ing what strange noise it could be that had stirred 
their quiet. At the top we waited to cool the engine 
and to enjoy the view, while we settled on a place in 
which to spend the night. The nearest town of any 
size on the map was Amorbach, and the invaluable 

[56] 



HEIDELBERG TO ROTHENBURG 

Karl spoke of it as having an ancient abbey, a mill, 
and other places worthy of notice, so we decided to stop 
there, for the climb over the castle, the weather, and 
the mud had tired us, until we were more than ordi- 
narily ready to rest. So presently we started again, 
and this time definitely for Amorbaeh and the Hotel 
zur Post. 

In a few miles we reached the village and found 
the hotel — a clean-looking building whose yellow 
front was decorated with frescoes of garlands and 
baskets of flowers, where we were welcomed by a 
charming young girl, the sister of the proprietor. 
When we asked if any one spoke English, the girl 
replied in German that she did, a little; possibly 
she did, but if so it was so very little that the unaided 
ear could not detect it, but she smiled an obliging re- 
ply to all our questions, and we got on beautifully. 
The auto they told us to stable in the main entrance 
hall of the hotel, but we insisted on some other shel- 
ter, as it seemed a shame to put such a muddy, grease- 
dripping thing in that immaculate place. 

The hotel, though a hundred years old, had re- 
cently been remodelled, and we had electric lights and 
running water in our big bedroom, which overlooked 
the public square of the quaintest, most Noah's ark- 
like town imaginable. While we washed up we ex- 

[57] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

amined from the windows the old Rathaus, or town 
hall, in whose weatherworn timbering we discovered 
the letters " MCCCCLIV." The town was all of 
solid stone or cement, and had an old-world and out- 
of-the-world atmosphere that seemed too unreal, too 
good to be true; and, when on the Fraulein^s asking 
what country we were from, we told her, and inquir- 
ing the cause of her amazement, learned that we were 
the first Americans who had ever been in the hotel, 
we did think that we had found a fresh sensation at 
last. The news of our nationality spread quickly 
over the house, and every one was delighted and no 
one could do enough for us. It was only half-past 
four, so we took a stroll and saw the old Benedictine 
Abbey, now the property of the Prince of Leiningen, 
and given up to the old and indigent retainers of his 
house. 

Better even than the Abbey, which dated from the 
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, was the Abbey 
mill, which we entered and whose miller showed us 
the water wheel turning under the flow of a swiftly 
running brook; the great millstones, the big beams, 
and the flour in bags ready to be carried away. For 
all we could see, things were going on here much as 
they must have since the erection of the mill, which 
was recorded on its door post as having occurred in 

[58] 



HEIDELBERG TO ROTHENBURG 

1448. It was exceedingly picturesque, with sharp 
gabled ends, one toward the square, the other so 
closely overhung by trees that its beautiful Gothic 
arches, originally intended for windows, could with 
difficulty be seen. 

We wandered about till we were hungry and then 
went in hoping to be told that dinner was served, but 
as no one appeared we finally found our Fraulein and 
asked, only to learn that the regular tahle d'hote din- 
ner was at noon, and in the evening the meals were 
ordered a la carte. We inquired what she would ad- 
vise us to take, and she suggested doe's meat, which 
sounded so good that we disregarded her wondering 
eyes and requested two orders of it, also macaroni, 
potatoes, and a German pancake for dessert. 

It was fully half an hour before the food arrived, 
but when it did we saw why the girl had hesitated 
over our order. There was a huge platter of slices 
of venison that melted in the mouth, a pile of maca- 
roni as white as snow, baskets made of fried potato 
shreds and filled with spinach, a plate of white and 
one of broA\TL bread, two foaming steins of beer, the 
big pancake, and a dish of strained honey that glowed 
like liquid amber. It looked enough for half a 
dozen. If it is true that cooks love to have the dishes 
appreciated which they prepare, then the one who 

[59] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

made ready our dinner at the Hotel zur Post must 
have gone to bed that night happy. 

'No wonder, as we sat in the window, loitering over 
our dinner, watching in the twilight the peaceful life 
of the village, and listening to the soft murmur of its 
busy brook running unseen through channels under 
the stones, that we smiled in satisfaction at the 
thought of old Heidelberg, noisy and teeming with 
its artificial life, its obsequious waiters, and bustling 
tourists. 

After dinner the Fraulein offered to show us the 
park belonging to the Prince of Leiningen, and we 
went with her in the after-glow of the sunset and 
under the faint starlight, listening now to her tales 
of the olden days in Amorbach and now to her ques- 
tions about the great new world, so strange to her, 
so familiar and so dear to us. 

Por all our wandering it was not late when we 
went to our beds, nor long thereafter till we were 
deep in quiet sleep. Later we were awakened by a 
sound of music and going to the window saw two 
drunken men arm in arm, singing in the brilliant 
moonlight of the square. They were trolling forth 
with a right good will, if with little melody, the notes 
and the German rendering of the words of Blanche 
Eing's " Hip-I-Addy-I-Ay," and every little while 

[60] 



HEIDELBERG TO ROTHENBURG 

thej interrupted themselves to cry out in accents of 
the greatest commiseration and with gestures befit- 
ting the tragic stage, " Oh, the poor Swiss ! Oh, 
the poor dwarf, the poor dwarf ! " Once in a while 
some other song would attract them for a moment, 
but in the end it was always the rollicking music- 
hall ditty and the sorrowful apostrophy, " Oh, the 
poor dwarf, the poor, poor Swiss," that held their 
attention. It was more like a scene in a theatre, 
than real life, and we watched until our shivers sent 
us to bed again, there to listen until they wandered 
on down some side street, their music growing fainter 
in the distance, until it mingled at last with our 
dreaming and was gone. 

The next day was Sunday and we were so well 
content, so much in love with Amorbach, that we 
stayed on, walking in the quaint streets, taking pic- 
tures of the sagging, bulging houses, and playing with 
the pretty dachshund puppies belonging to a neighbor. 
Finally Monsieur went to look over the car while 
Madame went to " God's Service," as the proprietor 
called it, in the much restored and very rococo abbey 
church, there to gather what she could of a lengthy 
sermon on the beauty and the duty of gratitude. 

In the afternoon we took the machine and went for 
about -^ve miles, past wayside shrines, and beside 

[61] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

the purling Amorbach, through a delectable country 
to a larger and more strikingly quaint old town of 
nearly four thousand inhabitants, called Miltenberg. 

Both places were captivating, the difference being 
that between the village and the city, — for such, 
though small, Miltenberg undoubtedly considered it- 
self. This Sunday proved to be a fete day ; some sort 
of military memorial celebration was going on and 
the whole place was gay with fluttering flags, uni- 
formed musicians from the now scattered brass bands 
and gayly dressed vociferous people. We left the car 
by the river front, and joining the crowd walked 
from end to end of the town, enraptured. After 
some hours we went back to Amorbach for the night 
and next morning started on our roundabout way 
to Eothenburg. 

The weather was ideal, and we were so sure of not 
going wrong on the road, which we had covered twice 
the day before, that we gave ourselves up entirely to 
the delights of the moment and never knew that we 
had missed the turn for Miltenberg until we were 
fully fiNQ miles out of our way, and had to go back 
almost to Amorbach to pick it up. 

It was some eighty kilometres to Wiirzburg, and 
we enjoyed every foot of the way. For miles we 
went beside the Main — a meandering, leisurely 

[62] 



HEIDELBERG TO ROTHENBURG 

river, witli here and there a busy town or a ruined 
castle on its banks, to stimulate the imagination and 
diversify the scene. The whole day was bright and 
balmy, but the earlier hours of the morning were 
especially delightful, for then a low mist hung over 
river, woods, and hills, which gradually lifted as the 
sun's rays shot through it, until finally it floated 
away in gray streamers that almost swept our faces 
as they passed. 

The run was uneventful, but full of trifles that 
were keenly interesting. Once we met two boys 
tending a great flock of geese, and, getting out, in- 
duced them to call their birds together so that we 
could take a picture of them. Often we went slowly 
to admire the cornflowers, the old Emperor's favor- 
ites, which grew in the fields, as did the poppies 
also, though these latter we noticed again were by 
no means so thick as they had been in France, where 
many times whole acres were red with their gorgeous 
blossoms. Constantly we met the peasants whose 
bowed backs and tired, hopeless faces made us won- 
der, with Edwin Markham, 

" How will it be with kingdoms and with kings — 
With those who shaped him to the thing he is — 
When this dumb terror shall reply to God, 
After the silence of the centuries?^' 

[63] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

ISTowhere in America, save in the slums of great 
cities, is such utter, miserable poverty to be seen, 
and even there it seems to sit with a less crushing 
weight; yet, though we could not account for the 
change, now almost every one greeted us with a nod 
and a pleasant word; often we waved a hand to the 
people toiling in the fields, and generally they waved 
back, the women always responding more quickly 
than the men. 

There is a peculiar thing, \and one which we 
noticed for weeks, in France as well as in Germany, 
which is, that if we inquired the way in passing of 
a group, it was almost invariably a woman who first 
grasped the question, and first and most briefly gave 
us the needed answer. 

We were stopped often to pay bridge and town 
entrance tolls of a few pennies, sometimes we turned 
on the power just for sheer gladness of heart and 
ran past the collectors without contributing. Once 
when we were particularly remote and alone we 
skirted a field and suddenly saw in it a familiar 
figure — a bright McCormick Harvester. Here, as 
all through Germany, we came frequently upon posts 
on which stood the word " Haltestelle ! " and then a 
picture which we took to be a road scraper. We 
never acquired any authentic information on this im- 

[64] 




ALWAYS UP AMONG THE HILLS AND OVER PERFECT ROADS " 

[ Page 40 ] 



HEIDELBERG TO ROTHENBURG 

portant subject, but decided to our own satisfaction 
that these were tbe places where the road menders 
were supposed to find and leave the road scrapers. 
Others may know better, and may smile at our theory, 
especially as the fact is, that we saw very few scrapers 
and these never in use on the roads, and never by any 
chance, waiting at the halting places. We hope that 
we were wrong and that it is only in America, the 
land of the destructive and untrained highway com- 
missioner, that so barbarous and ill-adapted a device 
as an iron scraper is ever used on a road. We cer- 
tainly went over no roads abroad which had known 
their ravages, while at home these are all too com- 
mon, as every one who has ever motored through the 
rural districts knows to his sorrow. 

We stopped for water for the car at a hydrant 
in the square of a little walled city called Ochsenfurt, 
directly in front of its old Eathaus, founded in 1488. 
As it chanced, its large clock indicated three min- 
utes before twelve, and something especially por- 
tentous about it made us watch for developments. 
At the hour, with each stroke of its gong, two men's 
heads bowed from windows, another larger head 
popped from a door higher up and opened its mouth 
twelve times, and two red bulls rushed out and 
vigorously butted their heads together with every 
6 [ 65 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

stroke, all of which, although we did not "understand 
the symbolism, was very entertaining. When the 
spectacle was over a scrap of a girl came up and 
seemed politely bent on presenting us with two cards, 
which finally, by the aid of a bystander, we dis- 
covered were toll tickets, as we had, this time inno- 
cently enough, slipped into town without paying. 
Beyond Ochsenfurt we ate the luncheon which had 
been put up for us in the hotel that morning and then 
went on with no more stops until Eothenburg, with 
its many odd-shaped towers came into view, looking 
more like an elaborate toy than a real city and one of 
the best preserved of the many mediaeval relics in 
which Germany abounds and which make it such a 
treasure-trove to us from this side of the water. 



[66] 



CHAPTEE VI 

BOTHENBUK.a NUKEMBEEG AUGSBUKG 

TO describe these towns is like going back to 
the very middle of the Middle Ages, for in 
them and in this section of Germany, if anywhere, 
is the aspect of the past preserved. 

Rothenburg on the Tauber one must say, as there 
are other Rothenburgs, is the best preserved entire 
mediaeval city in Europe, with the possible exception 
of the old Cite of Carcassonne. 

We reached Eothenburg and the Hotel zum 
Eisenhut about half-past two, and soon went out to 
explore the city. We felt sure of having read of 
walking around on the walls of the old town as one 
does at Chester, and this we started out to do. It 
was easy enough to find the walls, even to find a 
gate, or many gates, but we could see no way to get 
up; still we hunted, trailing along a path inside of 
the wall till we brought up, after fifteen minutes' 
walking in somebody's not very clean back yard. 
Here we took a fresh start, and by the outside of the 
wall found ourselves in another fifteen minutes back 

[6Y] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

at the original starting place. This was not very 
profitable, so we began by a new and winding route, 
first stopping to take a picture of the gate — a proc- 
ess delayed by the fact that a slatternly nursemaid 
was determined that she and her charge should be in 
the centre of the picture. This last start seemed 
very hopeful, and continued so until another fifteen 
minutes and a sharp turn to the right brought us 
once more in the dirty back yard. Though ready 
now to give up the walls, we nevertheless had to 
move away from the piles of filth in the little en- 
closure and this time decided to see some of the 
sights and try a new direction. First we saw the 
Jakobs Kirche, the Von Kochert house, a very an- 
cient patrician home now used for a parsonage, then 
the house of a baker which has a tasteful oriel 
window, and then suddenly, lo ! the Klingenthor, with 
a tiny stairway at one side leading to the top of 
the wall. 

Up we went, and sure enough, there stretched be- 
fore us the long, narrow promenade of almost the 
entire* circuit of the walls. And very interesting 
it proved, well worth the long hunt. The old 
rafters are still there, the old loop holes and machi- 
colations for dropping boiling lead and oil, and, 
best of all, in spite of an occasional tourist or busy 

[68] 



ROTHENBURG — NUREMBERG 

artist, the very breath of a vanished time seemed to 
float over everything on the westering sunbeams. Oc- 
casionally the walls skirted so closely the yards 
and houses that we could see in and note the huge 
blackened beams and the low walls, or the dark 
brick courtyards, whose unsanitary condition, one 
would think, must have depopulated Eothenburg 
ages ago. 

Later, after dinner, we had an ice and cake in 
an old house built in 1559, whose upper floors are 
used as work room and exhibition gallery by some 
artists, and whose lower floor and beautiful court 
serve as cafL 

In the morning we went through the Kathaus, en- 
joying especially the hall and the story of the 
Masterdrink, where every Whitmonday is given by 
the townspeople the play " Der Meistertrunk," which 
commemorates the saving of the town by one of its 
burgomasters in 1631. The story goes that when 
Tilly had taken the place and threatened to burn it, 
or, as some say, to behead the town council, he offered 
to hold his hand if some one could be produced who 
at one draught could empty a three and a half litre 
measure (over three quarts) of wine. This old bur- 
gomaster agreed to make the attempt, and, as our 
guide proudly told us, " he did his city no shame.'' 

[69] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

iKTaturallj, it is not impossible to find miniature tank- 
ards in the stores to buy and carry away as souvenirs. 

The Eatbaus is very attractive without and within, 
but what pleased us most was the view from the top 
of its tower, one hundred and ninety-three steps 
up, of the smiling Tauber valley. One thing con- 
nected with this tower will haunt us on wild winter 
nights, and that is the thought of the fire watch, 
with the vacant look of a Western sheep herder in his 
face, who stays up there for twelve hours consecu- 
tively, looking in every direction for the beginnings 
of a fire, which in those practically non-combustible 
houses surely cannot occur more than once in a life- 
time. There are two of these men, who divide the 
time, and whether they watch or not, at least they 
must be on the alert, for every seven minutes a record 
has to be made on some sort of an electrical clock. 
It must be almost more than human nature can bear 
not to pull the bell rope sometimes in sheer longing to 
break the monotony. 

Below in another building there is a queer me- 
chanical clock, but we did not wait to see its figures 
go through their little parts, but started off at half- 
past ten for a run of about fifty miles, almost due 
east to l^uremberg. 

We had a pleasant run and arriving about three 

[70] 



ROTHENBURG — NUREMBERG 

o'clock went to the Golden Eagle, found it to be a 
comfortable house in a quiet but convenient street and 
one which entertains always a great number of Amer- 
icans. By the way, what a menagerie one would 
have, who could gather together the Golden Eagles, 
the Eed Lions, the Black Horses, the Bold Cocks, and 
White Lambs, the Swans and the Eed Hens in which 
the hotel world of Europe abounds ! Surely he would 
have to hire the frequent Wild Man to take charge of 
it! 

It did not take us long to get settled, and then we 
went directly to the Post and to the office of Cook's 
representative, Schenker &; Company, for our 
tickets to the Passion Play. 

'No one has caught the spirit of this once rich 
imperial city better than Longfellow, and our stay 
there beat to the measure of his verse: 

" Quaint old town of toil and traffic, quaint old town of 

art and song, 
Memories haunt thy pointed gables like the rooks that 

round them throng; 
Thus, Nuremberg, a wanderer from a region far away, 
As he paced thy streets and courtyards, sang in thought 

his careless lay; 
Gathering from the pavement's crevice, as a floweret 

from the soil. 
The nobility of labor, the long pedigree of toil/' 

[Yl] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

For I^uremberg is fundamentally and noticeably a 
city of the people. Other places flaunt their royal 
residences, their knights' halls or crown jewels, but 
ITuremberg's glory rests on honest toil, such as the 
eleven years' work of Peter Yischer, and his ^ve sons, 
seen in the magnificent bronze sarcophagus which 
holds the bones of St. Sebald, or the exquisite pix in 
the St. Lawrence Church by Adam Kraft, who with 
his two assistants was five years carving it. It is 
hard to conceive of marble being so beautifully and 
intricately wrought as this pix is. Fancy an ivory- 
colored tower sixty-five feet high, growing more slen- 
der toward the top, till it droops over as gently as a 
fading lily and takes the form of a glorified shep- 
herd's crook or bishop's staff, the whole so wrought 
with figures, statues, and arabesques as to be more 
like lace than marble, and you will wonder that thrice 
^ve years of work ever sufficed to make it. 

Then there were jolly old Hans Sachs, cobbler 
and poet; Albrecht Diirer, the artist; Yeit Stoss, 
worker in wood; Pirkheimer, the great humanist; 
Behaim, who made the first globe, and the man 
who invented watches, known for many years be- 
cause of their shape as " !N'uremberg eggs." All these 
were men who did something, not men who merely 
were something, and their energy was in their less 

[ 72 ] 




IT WAS EXCEEDINGLY PICTX'RESQUE. WITH SHARP GABLED ENDS " 

[ Page 59 ] 




" THE PEACEFLT, LIFE OF THE VILLAGE " 



[ Page 60 ] 



I 



ROTHENBURG — NUREMBERG 

noted fellow-citizens as well, who took so bold a 
part in the league of the cities, and who made good 
their old boast, " Nuremberg's hand goes through 
every land,'' as, indeed, in a manner it does to-day, 
for the Faber lead pencils and the myriad ^N'urem- 
berg toys are in world-wide use. 

Later we took a long drive, seeing the fountains, 
statues, and old houses, as well as the Rathaus, 
with its horrible dungeons and torture chambers, 
one of which had a most suggestive opening, where 
hidden listeners could take down and if necessary 
distort the words which fell from the lips of the 
victims in their agony. 'Next day we went in the 
morning through the castle, the oldest parts of which 
date from the eleventh century. The first thing 
of interest shown in it is the well, which was sunk 
during thirty years to the depth of three hundred 
and thirty-eight feet, through solid rock, save seven 
tiers of stone blocks at the top. A girl lowered 
candles into it and with a mirror reflected the light 
on the water below, which is pure and good. Two 
subterranean passages lead from the well; one now 
blocked up, to a graveyard beyond the walls, and 
the second to the Rathaus. 

The other and still more interesting part of the 
castle, said to be founded on a Roman construction 

[73] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

of the fourth century, is the tower of the torture 
chamber. This contains a grisly collection of old 
instruments of torture — pincers to be heated and 
used for tearing off bits of flesh ; racks, boots, thumb 
screws, a cradle studded with spikes in which to rock 
the victims, and a great number of things, whose 
use the mind of the present day, unaided, can 
scarcely conceive. 

One thing, the Iron Virgin, always attracts an 
interested and horrified group. It is a more than 
life-size, mould-like figure of a woman, which opens 
down the front, and on the inside of which are 
long sharp spikes as far down as the heart, two just 
fitted to pierce the eyes. The condemned person 
was thrust inside and the mould closed upon him, 
until the executioners were satisfied that he must 
be dead, when a trap door was opened in the floor 
and the body allowed to fall into the stream below, 
where a water wheel, set with knives, soon mutilated 
it past recognition. 

It is about as terrible a thing as could well have 
been invented, but in this chamber of horrors there 
was one other thing which, though not so scenic, 
seemed to us more dreadful, because it must have 
been slower in bringing death. This was a saw- 
horse of heavy boards, five or six feet high, and per- 

[74] 



ROTHENBURG — NUREMBERG 

haps three feet long, sharpened like a sort of ridge 
pole. Astride of this the naked victim was placed 
and weights were hnng to his feet, so that in the 
end, after unspeakable suffering, he was split up 
the middle. 

The great Germanic Museum is too good to miss, 
but too large to describe; it is in an old Carthusian 
monastery to which recent additions in a corre- 
sponding style have been made, and the whole with 
its contents forms one of the finest museums in 
Germany. It contains anything and everything, 
from articles of the Stone Age to exhibits of modem 
bookbinding. 

^Nuremberg is interesting, but we could not stay 
forever, so pulled out on the second morning. Out 
of town about six miles, as we stopped to ask the 
road a big American car passed us. They inquired 
our destination and when we replied " Augsburg," 
called back, " Follow us." We replied, " All right," 
and started to do so, but a team turning around 
blocked the way, and by the time we had passed it 
they were out of sight. It had been about eleven 
o'clock when we left, and we arrived at Augsburg at 
half-past four. The day was ideal, and we travelled 
slowly, going out of our way to include Pappenheim, 
of whose beauties we had read. We took the turn 

[75] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

a mile too soon, however, and went over three miles 
of really bad hill and forest road — the worst we 
had found in Germany — in our efforts to get there. 
We had thought that we would stay a day if the 
hotel proved good, but it did not, and the ruins of 
the ancient castle not seeming attractive either, we 
pushed on, through charming scenery of swelling 
hills and well-tilled fields, to Augsburg and 'the 
Hotel of the White Lamb. 

Again we found that we had made a wise choice, 
for aside from excellent meals, we had for six marks 
a room fully thirty feet square, and twenty feet high, 
with big windows, three beds, a large round table, 
^ve mirrors, a wardrobe, a shaving table, a sofa, 
several chairs, and yet plenty of empty space. The 
hotel people were delighted to receive us and the lit- 
tle car again stood in state in the main hall, where in 
America would be the office, the elevator, and the 
Buttons. 

We went for a long walk both before and after 
dinner, seeing the entrancingly picturesque Jakober 
Strasse, many pretty fountains for which the town 
is famous, the egg market, the Butcher's House, the 
fashionable hotel of the Three Moors, and many 
queer old houses and streets, all interesting and none 

[76] 



ROTHENBURG — NUREMBERG 

the less pleasing because we seemed to be the only 
tourists in sight. 

We realize how open to criticism this sounds, and 
how absurd, but both on this trip and previously we 
have observed the regulation tourist, and especially 
the conducted party, and we have been sorry for 
them, individually and collectively. If Americans 
could only realize how very easy travel is made for 
them in Europe, they would not go in these parties, 
but would use the money they pay to be conducted 
in conducting themselves, reasonably and rationally, 
and would come home understanding better what they 
had seen and better satisfied with their experience. 

'Next morning we went again through the fasci- 
nating Jakober Strasse, of which some one says, " It 
is a vision of old world Germany ! " 

After that we put some time in in the Fuggerei, 
which is the most interesting feature of the town, 
to our minds. It is a section of the city given by 
Jakob JFugger, The Eich, a weaver, in 1519, to be a 
permanent home for poor families. It is closed at 
night by its own gates and contains fifty-three small 
houses, each as neat as a pin, the whole laid out in 
streets and looking like the cottage system of some 
sanitarium. 

[7Y] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 



/ 



Quite at a distance from this is the large Fugger 
house, once a residence of the family, and adorned 
with frescoes from the history of Augsburg. These 
Euggers were so immensely wealthy, from the profits 
of their weaving industries, that the Emperor Charles 
V, having been shown the treasures of France, said, 
" I have a weaver in Augsburg, named Fugger, who 
could pay spot cash for all this." 

The E-athaus is not keenly interesting, though it 
has many curiously carved wooden stoves and a 
Golden Hall, which is said to be one of the finest in 
Germany. We went through with a courteous old 
German, who allied himself to us, saying that so, it 
would only cost him twenty-five pfennigs, and if he 
went alone it would be fifty, while our expenses 
would be fifty in any case. The cathedral is, frankly, 
a bore, and so was the custodian, who insisted on 
showing us every stick and stone in it till we 
rebelled. 

Augsburg is captivating, and we enjoyed it 
thoroughly — its conservative, self-sufficient air, its 
crowds of peasants in Tyrolean costume, and every- 
thing about it except this cathedral. 

These costumes are well worth seeing. The 
women wear short black skirts, black shawls on their 
heads, and white neck handkerchiefs, with brightly 

[78] 



ROTHENBURG — NUREMBERG 

flowered borders. Their waists button up the front 
with flat silver buttons, and they are almost all fat, 
especially through their hips, though they do not, 
like the women in Brittany, wind themselves with 
ropes of hay to make themselves look large and as if 
they would be able to bear many children. The 
men's dress is equally queer, but they are almost all 
well built and it is becoming. Their coats and 
trousers are short, of black or green velvet, with 
many silver buttons, and they wear green sus- 
penders, embroidered with white flowers, and very 
much in evidence, and gray woollen stockings 
trimmed with green. The stockings are really 
more like leg wristlets, and cover only the calf of 
the leg, leaving ankles and knees bare; their feet 
evidently are without covering, save for high Romeo 
shoes. This habit is crowned by a hat of gray, 
green, or black felt, with an absurd feather or bunch 
of chamois beard stuck in the middle of the back, 
and many carry packs or alpine stocks and appear to 
be making long trips. In fact, all through Germany 
we met numbers of both men and women, of all 
grades and classes, walking. Evidently pedestrian 
tours are a general summer custom. The men seemed 
to enjoy it, but the women looked invariably warm 
and tired. 

[79] 



^I 



CHAPTER VII 

MUNICH AND OBERAMMERGAU 



T is about forty-five miles from Augsburg to 
Munich, where we arrived at four in the after- 
noon. Before leaving Augsburg, and in fact ever 
since entering Germany, we had puzzled over the 
interminable lists of hotels in popular Americanized 
Munich. The town was simply thronged with 
tourists, and we felt that we might have difficulty 
to get in anywhere, and ought to have wired for 
accommodations days ago. However, we finally de- 
cided to try the Grand Hotel Griinwald, it being 
moderate in price and conveniently located near the 
Hauptbahnhof, or main railway station, and we had 
no reason to regret the choice. 

The place was not only full — it was rather what 
the English call " full up " ; so much so that they 
could not give us a room, only promise us one for 
six o'clock. When we remember this hotel to-day, 
it is not to recall its excellent meals or the reason- 
able price of its bill, made out to the " highly well- 
born Herr Hand," but its elderly head waiter, whose 

[ 80 ] 



MUNICH AND OBERAMMERGAU 

delicately-cut face and old-school manners made him 
worth a great deal to the management, which we 
hope is properly appreciative. At the Griinwald, we 
observed a very pleasing custom which we met there 
for the first time, and this is the practice of its 
proprietor of making once during each dinner, a 
formal, stately progress through the dining-rooms, 
bowing to the guests, chatting a moment with one 
and another, and in a gracious, courteous manner 
making each feel that his needs were being cared for, 
and his comfort considered. The head waiter's kindly 
interest in having us enjoy Munich led us to go that 
evening to an excellent vaudeville in the Deutsches 
Theater — a genuine beer-hall where every one ate, 
drank, or smoked at small tables and an American 
hat- juggling team did so good a turn that we ap- 
plauded till the boys singled us out and smiled their 
recognition. 

The next morning, in a drizzling rain, we went 
to see the mechanical clock in the new Rathaus 
tower. It is, perhaps, a childish thing, but a crowd 
is always there waiting at noon for the fifteen minutes 
in which the figures go through their dances and 
their tournament. 

This over, we went to the new Pinakothek, and 
enjoyed it, though we felt that it did not at all 
« [81] 



/ 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

compare with the corresponding gallery of modem 
paintings at Paris, the Luxembourg. The Glypto- 
thek and Old Pinakothek, the one of old sculptures, 
tJie other of old paintings, we did not see, for, 
frankly, the classic in art and music is lost upon us. 

In the afternoon we visited the Hofbriiuhaus, 
which is considered one of the sights of Munich. 
It is a great beer hall in connection with the former 
Court Brewery, one of the oldest and most famous 
in Bavaria. The beer at Munich is said to be the 
best in the world, and the reason for this is two- 
fold: first, that brewing is there better understood 
and more carefully performed, under government 
supervision, than in any other city; and second, be- 
cause, as their best output the breweries make a beer 
so light and sensitive that fifty miles of railroad 
travel breaks it, and hence for export a heavier beer 
is needed, one necessarily more strong and bitter. 
Leaving the Hofbriiuhaus we saw, after a long hunt, 
one of the few old bits left in Munich, the Court of 
the Mint, established in 1558, which was used for a 
tiltini>: vard. 

The next day was Sunday, and it rained hard in 
the morning, but cleared toward noon, when we went 
to see the guards changed at the Residenz and in the 
afternoon we took a long walk in the parks along the 

[82] 



MUNICH AND OBERAMMERGAU 

Isar, saw the German Museum, the Maximilianeum 
and other fine buidings, as well as the big airship 
Parsival, making its majestic flight over the city. 

Monday was Assumption Day, and as Munich is 
strongly Catholic, everything was closed, so we put in 
the morning on the auto. ^Nothing serious needed 
to be done, but when the time came for a departing 
turn of the crank to make sure that all was in good 
order for an early start next day, it would not 
go at all, and no amount of laboring could make it 
work. It is said that " To labor is to pray," but 
sometimes it is quite the reverse, and it was not 
prayer that was ascending from the garage when, at 
one-thirty, we finally gave it up and went in for din- 
ner. Later we found a Benz garage where, though 
it was a holiday, they sent home with us Adolph, 
a mechanician who had driven in that morning from 
Vienna. It did not take him long to find out that 
we had simply flooded the engine with oil in our 
effort to observe the motor company's warning that 
oil was the cheapest repair possible. He let out 
enough to allow it to start again, and assured us that 
it would be all right after fifty miles, which we found 
to be true, when we left in the morning for the village 
of the Passion Play. 

Munich, though the third city in size in Germany, 

[83] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

is to us, mortally stupid, being for the traveller prin- 
cipally a great music and art centre. 

Possibly it is bad form to admit it, but we know 
little of and care less for these things, and long ago we 
decided, while travelling, to put our time and 
strength in on things that we do understand and do 
enjoy, and furthermore to be honest and self-reliant 
enough to own up to having deliberately omitted 
many things which doubtless plenty of tourists see 
and love, but which many more see and claim to ap- 
preciate, though really they have been bored to ex- 
haustion all the time. 

In 1800 Munich had but forty thousand inhabit- 
ants, and its importance dates only from the last 
century. Almost everything old has been torn down, 
and it is to-day as modern, as bare of all that is 
picturesque or historically interesting, as Chicago. 

But dead though it may be to its past, it is very 
much alive and up-to-date and keeps going not only 
" all day on Sunday and six days a week," but every 
night and all night long. Men, women, and children 
loaf, visit, and drink from midnight till dawn with- 
out ever suspecting that those hours were made for 
sleep, while, day and night, the motors run, as we 
believe, more madly here than in any other city on 
earth. They take the corners on two wheels, and 

[84] 



MUNICH AND OBERAMMERGAU 

they never honk for the crossings ; rather, they never 
cease honking. They start from the Hauptbahnhof 
on the honk and never stop or lessen speed till they 
grind the brakes and bring up with a jerk at their 
destinations. 

These peculiarities may or may not be merits, de- 
pending on the point of view, as may also be the 
fact that they have women polishers in the garages, 
women at the street-car switches, and women auto 
cab-drivers. But it is a fact that they have one of 
the finest street-car systems in the world. There are 
regular and frequent stopping-places with numbered 
metal sign-boards with arrows pointing directions and 
telling the places of interest on the way ^nd the des- 
tination of each car stopping at that station, and 
each car is numbered to correspond with the sign- 
boards, so that even the stranger can hardly go 
astray. 

We left Munich Tuesday at half-past nine in the 
morning, after having hurriedly done the numer- 
ous errands which yesterday's holiday had made im- 
possible. It rained when we started and sprinkled 
on and off all the way to Oberammergau, but the 
roads were fine, and after a time the Alps came into 
sight and the scenery was beautiful, in a gentle smil- 
ing fashion, which led us happily on, watching kilo- 

[85] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

metre after kilometre to see the hills slide into place 
and the clouds illumine or shadow them, while on 
their huge sides patches of snow became more and 
more frequent as we ascended gradually into the 
enchanting Bavarian Highlands. 

We lunched at Murnau with a room full of others, 
mostly autoists, and all going in the same direction. 
Indeed, a little way from Munich, sign-boards had 
began to point, with the encouraging words, " I^ach 
Oberammergau." Big machines passed us con- 
stantly, but we knew that we had plenty of time 
and trundled comfortably on, arriving about half -past 
one after a good run, the last bit of which was up 
the Ettal hill — a long ascent, which made us stop 
at a kindly old peasant's house to ask for water for 
the car. Arrived in the pretty straggling town, we 
went to the house for which tickets had been sold us, 
and there found that we as well as the tickets had been 
sold, for though we had paid for next to the best ac- 
commodations, we had been assigned to a tiny cottage 
on the outskirts of the town, whose only charms were 
that it was almost under the shadow of the Kofel 
peak and that our room was spotlessly clean. It had 
two hard beds, a carven crucifix, and coat-of-arms of 
the family, many religious pictures, and multitudes 
of flies of a distressing appearance, but so lifeless and 

[86] 




" A STRIKINGLY QUAINT OLD TOWN " 



[ Page 62 ] 



MUNICH AND OBERAMMERGAU 

uninterested that we killed them easily with the whisk- 
broom. 

A walk to the town and to the canvas garage, 
where we paid one dollar and fifty cents a night to 
leave the car in an unlocked sort of stall, which had 
already been three times flooded during the season, 
brought us back to our room full of that particu- 
larly trying feeling of having been " done," and when, 
within half an hour, the heavens opened and the 
rain came down in torrents, we were more disgusted 
than ever. 

We stood in the doorway and watched one leaden 
cloud after another scrape itself over the rough edge 
of the Kofel and let fall its heavy load of moisture, 
till the stream ran high, and we felt that it would be 
days before even these good roads would be able to 
hold an auto up above the hubs. An appetizing din- 
ner in the neighboring Hotel Osterbichl put a better 
heart into us and afterwards we bought an authorized 
edition of the play and went home to read it, fasci- 
nated, till our eyes ached from the strain of using 
only one candle; then after a little more fly-killing 
we went to bed, to listen to the rushing of the swol- 
len Ammer and to hope for the best for the morrow. 

And how soon it came ! And how bright it was ! 
How the sun laughed through the fringes of the 

[87] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

vanished clouds, and how sweetly the sound of the 
bells filled the vallej, calling the players to the early 
service, which helps to sustain them and to fill them 
with the spirit, which more than all else makes the 
great play what it is. 

Frau S. was late in bringing breakfast to our 
room, and it was poor and scanty when it came. 
Eutter, rolls, honey, coffee, and water, and only a 
small amount of each, but we made the best of it 
and hurried off, over the sodden streets, along the 
river, to the bam-like structure, where before eight 
o'clock the crowds filed in and took their seats till 
not a vacant place could be seen of all the forty-two 
hundred. 

There was no crowding, no commotion; in all the 
throng a strangely subdued spirit seemed to pre- 
vail ; every nation under heaven was represented, but 
all pored over books of one meaning, and all, be- 
lievers and unbelieving, were hushed in respect for 
the work and the faith of the players, and the story 
of the Passion of a carpenter's son who years ago 
grew up in a humble village like this, and who knew 
so to live and to die, that he has been the central 
figure for all the centuries that have followed. 

Before going into detail as to the play it may 
be well to recapitulate in a few words something 

[88] 



MUNICH AND OBERAMMERGAU 

of the circumstances which in the past led up to 
its performance and which to-daj surround it. 
Briefly, it is the story of the life of Christ, and is 
of the nature of the old miracle plays. Opinions dif- 
fer as to whether or not the play was given here be- 
fore 1634, but in any case in that year, the fear of 
the plague which was all about them and had re- 
cently appeared in the town, caused the villagers to 
make a vow to Heaven, that if they should be spared 
they would present every ten years a dramatized 
version of the Passion Tragedy. Erom the hour of 
the registering of the vow, the pestilence ceased, and 
the promise has been kept ever since, save in 1770, 
when an edict had been published prohibiting all 
manner of religious plays. In 1680 the date was 
changed, anticipating the performance, due four 
years later, to the even decennials, a practice which 
has since been continued. Perhaps the matter will 
be a little simplified if we explain first the peculiar 
name of the village, which means : Ober — Upper ; 
Ammer — the name of the river ; Gau — district. 

Xone but Oberammergauers are allowed the honor 
of being in the play, but of the seventeen hundred peo- 
ple, every one save the married women is given some 
work in connection with it, either one of the sixty- 
five speaking parts, or a character in one of the 

[89] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

crowds, in several of which there are almost eight 
hundred actors, or else is connected with the play in 
some outside capacity, either orchestra, ticket bureau, 
fire guard, or emergency hospital ; in some way each 
participates, and this is in a literal sense a perform- 
ance of the vow. The married women do no less 
than the others toward the success of the play which 
they often see but once during the whole season, for 
the reason that they are so constantly occupied with 
the duties necessitated by the entertainment of the 
thousands who flock here and for whom, obviously, 
the hotels are inadequate. There are four hundred 
houses which receive guests, and though the meals 
may not always be just what one would like, still 
they are the best that the peasants can give, the 
food more varied and better than their own humble 
fare, the rooms often being used only for the months 
of the play. When that summer is over, they closo 
these rooms, nail up the windows and retire to the 
low Stuben in which they were bom, and where they 
lived contentedly, until the recurrence of Passion year 
necessitates the use of what seem to them quite sump- 
tuous guest rooms. The prices for entertainment 
were last summer from twelve to twenty marks, bed 
and board, but of this it is possible that Cook received 
the lion's share. 

[90] 



MUNICH AND OBERAMMERGAU 

On July 7, 1907, the customary vote of the vil- 
lage was taken as to whether or not the play should 
be given, — a mere formality, of course, — and from 
that time on preparations were in order, and a com- 
mittee was elected to assign the different parts. 
Their decision was made public October 12, 1909, 
and it is said that while all acquiesced as courteously 
as possible, many of the men who were found too old 
to perform the parts that they had previously taken 
were heart-broken at having them filled by younger 
men, though of course they realized the necessity. 
The first rehearsal was held in December, 1909, and 
each participant was required to sign a contract, bind- 
ing himself to the faithful performance of his duties 
in rehearsal and presentation. On May 7 was given 
the first complete dress rehearsal, to which every one 
in the valley was made welcome, and on May 13 the 
first music rehearsal. 

The players each receive in payment for the per- 
formances, which last all day, always twice a week, 
and sometimes as many as ^Ye times, when the crowd 
has been too great to be accommodated with a less 
number of days, and which continue during five 
months, a reward proportionate to the difficulty and 
importance of their parts. The figures for 1910 are 
not yet available, but it is likely that they do not 

[91] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

differ materially from those of 1900, except that dur- 
ing this past summer an unquestionably greater 
amount was taken in, as the crowds were unparalleled. 
The children received for their parts fifty marks 
each (twelve dollars and a half) as payment for 
the total season's work and the other players pro- 
portionate sums, up to one thousand five hundred 
marks, which sum was given to the Christus, and 
to Caiaphas, and perhaps also to the leader of the 
orchestra, the leader of the chorus, the stage man- 
ager, the prologuist, and the first tenor. "No other 
remuneration is received, and none is given for the 
numberless rehearsals which cover still another pe- 
riod of five months. It was disparagingly said of 
Herr Lang, the Christ, that he sold his signature 
on post cards, and so he did — for two and a half 
cents each, and gave all the money to charity. We 
understood that after the performance ten years 
ago he was given a trip to Rome as a reward and re- 
freshment after his labors, and that the same was to 
be done again this year, which we certainly hope was 
the case, for he must have needed it. From the 
money gained in 1900, over and above the expenses, 
which included repairs on the theatre, necessary 
costumes, printing, administration, arrangements for 
the rehearsal theatre, and other things, three hundred 

[92] 



MUNICH AND OBERAMMERGAU 

and six thousand six hundred and sixty marks were 
divided among the seven hundred and fifty-eight per- 
sons who took part in the play, while the remainder 
went to charity, to the schools, to improvement of 
agriculture, to improvements in the village, to the 
payment of municipal dehts, to keeping up the 
theatre, and the practice theatre, and to poor post- 
men, shepherds, and Oberammergauers who were do- 
ing their obligatory army service, these latter receiv- 
ing from twenty to one hundred marks each. 

The play is given in a large iron auditorium, seat- 
ing forty-two hundred people, and covered, save for 
a podium for the chorus left open to permit a view 
of the mountains, which form a background and add 
greatly to the beauty and realistic effect of the per- 
formance. Of course, during the centuries, the play 
has gone through many changes. Its present text 
was written by the village priest, and has been used 
since 1850, since which time the presentation has 
been growing constantly in popular knowledge and 
favor. It is now in the form of an introductory piece 
and seventeen acts, each preceded by one or two 
tableaux. There is also a short concluding act. 
The tableaux foreshadow, by scenes from the Old 
and the !N^ew Testaments, the act that is to follow, 
and there is a chorus of thirty-five and a prologuist 

[93] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

to explain and supplement the acting. No paint or 
w powder, or false hair is permitted to be used, and this, 
in a broad daylight performance, is of course very 
trying. It is said that when Joseph Meyer was play- 
ing the part of Christ, a special permit was obtained 
by the villagers, allowing him to retain his long hair 
during the time of his military service. The cos- 
tumes used in the play represent a value of more 
than eighty thousand marks, and are of great beauty 
of texture, as well as grace of line and harmony of 
color. They were designed by Ludwig Lang, di- 
rector of the school of wood-carving, and cut and 
made from his diagrams and drawings by his sister 
Josepha, who was assisted in sewing them by the 
women of the village. Some of the materials were 
brought purposely from the Orient for this year's 
performance; the cost for the new costumes, which 
were over six hundred in number, was twenty thou- 
sand marks for the material alone. The representa- 
tion lasts from eight o'clock in the morning till six 
in the afternoon, with an intermission from twelve to 
two, and the prices range from two marks, in the 
poorest seats, to twenty in the boxes. E"ecessarily 
the participants in the play are many of them of 
the humblest walks in life; there are blacksmiths, 
tailors, wood-carvers, cobblers, coopers, carpenters, 

[94] 



MUNICH AND OBERAMMERGAU 

bakers, farmers, hotel-keepers, laborers, wood-chop- 
pers, and cleaners of roads. The schoolmaster is the 
music conductor, Anton Lang, a potter, is the 
Christus, and the beloved disciple is Alfred Bierling, 
the village plumber. The tableaux which precede 
the seventeen acts are indescribably beautiful, and the 
posing of large numbers of people, done sometimes in 
a few seconds, has probably never been equalled in 
beauty or in steadiness; even in children and a lit- 
tle donkey which figures in one tableaux, remaining 
absolutely rigid during the time that the curtain 
is up, and this not a short time, either. It is not 
only ardent believers and impressionable but inex- 
perienced beholders who admire and wonder at the 
art of the play, but people who really are judges of 
such matters. Patti, after seeing it, said, " The 
Wagner Trilogie in Munich did not compare with 
this Passion Play. I have seen much, but I have 
never seen anything that approached this." Otis 
Skinner, who saw the play last summer, says, " I 
would not have missed it for anything. I have rarely 
seen such acting as that of those peasants and have 
never seen such stage management." 

It is said that the play has been ruined and com- 
mercialized by the introduction of the modern spirit 
and the greed for money, but the only indication 

[95] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

we saw of this was one for which we were grateful. 
Some Chicago man, who had found the wooden 
benches of the theatre uncomfortable, suggested to the 
villagers that they make and rent cushions, for a 
mark each, but the cautious peasants hesitated, say- 
ing, " Suppose the people should carry them away ? " 
" Then make a cushion that costs less than one mark, 
rent it for one mark, and require a deposit of two 
marks, and you can hope they will carry them off," 
and this was done. 

But to return to the actual description of the play. 
As the hour approached for it to begin, every one set- 
tled himself and prepared to listen, seeming to de- 
sire as much as possible to efface himself, and as lit- 
tle as possible to annoy his neighbor; without a 
request every hat was removed, and strangers smiled 
and tried to arrange for one another's comfort like old 
friends, all seeming to enjoy and participate in the 
general good feeling. Finally, and not more than 
two or three minutes late, three cannon shots were 
heard, and their reverberations had hardly died away 
among the hills before, to a burst of music from the 
imseen orchestra, the chorus walked in with stately 
steps, and fell instantly into position, while the 
leader, Jakob Eutz, a blacksmith, opened the play, 
intoning in a deep and mellow voice the words : 

[96] 



MUNICH AND OBERAMMERGAU 

" Bow ye down in holy wonder, 
Eace by God^s curse oppressed.'^ 

It was only a few lines, and tlien heavy draperies 
were lifted and the first tableau was before us. — ■ 
the Expulsion from Eden. With the falling of the 
curtain came another short prologue and then an- 
other tableau, the Adoration of the Cross, and then 
after a few lines more of song, the chorus filed slowly 
out and the play proper began, with Christ's entry 
into Jerusalem. The succeeding acts are. Act II, 
The Designs of the Council; Act III, The Farewell 
of Christ to His Mother in Bethany; Act IV, 
Christ's last entry into Jerusalem ; Act V, The Last 
Supper; Act VI, The Traitor; Act VII, Jesus on 
the Mount of Olives (here occurs the intermission 
for luncheon); Act VIII, Jesus before Annas; Act 
IX, Jesus before Caiaphas; Act X, the Despair of 
Judas ; Act XI, Christ before Pilate ; Act XII, Christ 
before Herod; Act XIII, The Scourging and the 
Crown of Thorns; Act XIV, the Condemnation; 
Act XV, The Viadolorosa ; Act XVI, Christ on Gol- 
gotha; Act XVII, Jesus in the Tomb; Act XVIII, 
The Ascension. 

The music throughout the play is intricate and 
stately, though written by one of the peasants. It is 
of the character of oratorio music. The dialogue, 
■J [97] 



K 



V 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

also written by a native, is of course in German, but 
librettos are published in many languages, and every 
word is so clearly enunciated, that even those who 
do not know German can follow without difficulty. 

It is almost impossible to describe the play as a 
whole and its effect on the great audience. For the 
first few moments there was a sort of waiting, a cool- 
ness and a critical attitude, but from the instant that 
the five hundred actors poured in a glow of color 
on the stage shouting, " All hail to Thee, Thou Son 
of David," and Christ appeared riding on the foal of 
an ass, the crowd, as one man, leaned forward and 
drank in the gorgeous spectacle ; and by the third act, 
when Christ bade farewell to his mother in Bethany, 
there was hardly a dry eye in the house, and the 
deep sobs of the multitude made a 'fitting accompani- 
ment for the exquisitely chosen actions and words. 
It hardly needed the Mother's cry, " Oh, God ! Give 
me strength that my heart may not break ! " to make 
our own hearts ache for the gracious, sorrowful Mary. 
It was a wonderful sight — ignorant peasants hold- 
ing by their marvellous acting a great audience from 
the ends of the earth in tears, men and women alike 
sobbing and unashamed, almost unconscious of it. 

After the rest at noon, every one was in his seat 
pimctually and the play went forward as if there 

[98] 



MUNICH AND OBERAMMERGAU 

had been no interruption, the story flowing evenly 
on, to the bitter agony on Calvary. ISTo slightest ob- 
jectionable thing of any sort occurred. The sun- 
light fell softly on the big stage on which again and 
again hundreds of people were assembled, the shadows 
floated over the hillsides beyond, now and then twit- 
tering birds darted into the auditorium and wheeled 
over the heads of the people, and for those hours, if 
never before or after, the beautiful old story seemed 
very real and full of unutterable dignity and pathos. 
We really seemed to be a part of the jostling crowd, 
pitying or menacing, to shudder for a moment, at 
the dread words, '' Daughters of Jerusalem, weep 
not for me, but for yourselves and your children, for 
behold the days are coming when they shall say, 
'Blessed are the barren and the wombs that never 
bear, and the paps that never gave suck. They shall 
cry to the mountains, fall on us, and to the hills, 
cover us, for if they do this in the green tree, what 
shall be done in the dry ? ' " and later we were choked 
with the swelling of our hearts at the cry, " Father, 
forgive them, for they know not what they do." 
During the period on the Cross, many cried again, 
but, to tell the truth, most seemed too greatly in- 
terested, not to say curious, as to the means which 
made these minutes of suspension there possible, to 

[99] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

spare the time for tears. During nineteen long 
minutes, tlie Christus hung on the great rude cross, 
held there by a sort of steel jacket which fastened 
securely over hooks in the wood, but all so well 
hidden that no one in the audience not previously 
informed had any idea as to what device was used. 
The strain was said to be so great that daily after 
Lang was taken down he was massaged and rubbed 
with oils to restore circulation and prevent lameness. 
As the play drew to an end we instinctively 
dreaded some painful anticlimax, some offensive bit 
in the last tableaux of the Ascension, but we need 
not have been uneasy ; those who arranged the whole 
magnificent presentation up to this final point un- 
derstood far better than we what to do or not to do, 
and it rolled on smoothly to the very end. When the 
curtain went down for the last time, there was a 
silence through the great audience room; not a hand 
was raised in applause, hardly a long breath was 
drawn, and then slowly, after a long minute of 
waiting, the people, moving as if in a trance, poured, 
still in silence, out through the doors, and went upon 
their way. 



[100] 



CHAPTER YIII 

THE BAVABIAN HIGHLANDS 

ArTEE tlie play, for a time, tlie village was in 
an uproar — men and women, autos and 
horses crowding tlie crooked streets, so many of 
them Americans and so nearly all in a hurry to 
catch train or conveyance to avoid spending another 
night in the town, that it seemed quite like home 
and full of the strenuosity that is the breath of life 
to most of us. But soon those desiring to leave 
did so and the others scattered to shops and houses, 
while we went all over town, even to the electric- 
light works, to see if we could buy some dry cells, 
for our batteries were running dangerously low. 
We had been informed in Munich that at the garage 
here we could get anything we wanted, but this was 
a mistake. The electric light man had no batteries, 
but assured us he would wire for them to Munich 
and that they would arrive before eight o'clock in 
the morning; but at eight in the morning they had 
not arrived, nor yet at nine, so we went on without 
them, intending to supply at Eiissen, near the east- 

[101] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

ern end of Lake Constance, where we were to spend 
the night. 

The clean, toy-like hamlets slipped past us in 
quick succession, the sun shone brightly overhead 
and all went to perfection, save that it was increas- 
ingly difficult to start, each time that for any reason 
we stopped and that something had gone a little 
wrong somewhere, so that if we slowed up much the 
engine died entirely. As to the magTieto, that has 
never been of any use for starting; we never have 
been able to get under way with it, so considerable 
cranking was necessary. 

But these things, while a little ominous, were of 
no moment when onc§ we got to going, for then we 
went like a bird, up and down the long curves and 
gentle hills, skimming past the trudging peasants 
whose kindly " Griiss Gott " reached us now and 
again, but less frequently after we left the valley. 

At Munich and in Oberammergau we had been 
warned over and over that between the latter place 
and Flissen la^p' the worst hill in Europe, up which 
even the largest cars only carried one or two be- 
sides the chauffeur and that with our little car, 
only about sixteen European horse-power, we were 
apt to have trouble. The hill, they told us, was 
thirty-two per cent grade and lay between Baier- 

[102] 



BAVARIAN HIGHLANDS 

soyem and Rottenbuch, so when we got to the former 
town we filled with cold water and, metaphorically, 
girded up our loins. 

At a very little distance from Baiersoyem a sign 
warned us of the approach of a dangerous descent, 
which, when we reached it, proved the worst we 
had ever met; it was not so much a decline as a 
plunge into a gorge. The bottom reached, we found 
a level stretch of perhaps a hundred yards, and 
drawn up in the middle of it two big German cars, 
the passengers out and the chauffeurs grooming their 
motors for the coming effort. Beyond the level 
came a bridge and then the road curved so sharply 
to the left that we could see nothing of the hill. 

From a distance came the sound of an unseen car 
whose struggle it had been that kept the others wait- 
ing, and even as we listened, its explosions came 
more and more slowly, testifying to the difficulty of 
the climb, and then suddenly ceased as it evidently 
rolled over the crest. At once Madame and all the 
passengers of the other cars commenced their walk 
up the hill, and the chauffeur of the forward 
machine cranked up and jumped to the seat. The 
car sprang ahead under full power, filling the val- 
ley with its roaring, and passed out of sight. While 
Monsieur and the remaining chauffeur waited, the lat- 

[103] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

ter inspected our car, evidently estimating its chances 
of negotiating tlie Hill, and clearly feeling little con- 
fidence in its ability to do so. Soon, however, the 
noise of the preceding car ceased, and after another 
moment of waiting the second started. It was a 
powerful car and the chauffeur a good driver who 
evidently understood what was before him. The big 
empty machine rounded the curve at a higher speed 
than we should have dared to undertake with our 
lighter one. It seemed a long time before it reached 
the top — then came the turn of the little runabout. 
For the only time that day the engine started with 
a single turn of the crank; the car moved off as 
easily as if no difficult test were awaiting it. By 
the time it reached the bridge it was on the high, the 
throttle was open, and the rapidity of the explosions 
from the exhaust showed how fast it was gaining 
speed, when the sharp curve pulled it down to the 
intermediate; a little farther, and it was in the low; 
the little car was having no difficulty yet, but sud- 
denly beyond the end of this curve a second and a 
sharper rise appeared. It was like climbing the 
sloping cellar door as a start toward scaling the side 
of the house, and Madame afterward declared that 
from where she stood, almost at the top, she saw the 
car rear itself and assume a greater slant. About 

[104] 



BAVARIAN HIGHLANDS 

twenty-five feet from the top the hill made one more 
effort toward the perpendicular, and for a second the 
auto hesitated, then like a frightened cat it sank its 
claws in and with a final effort pulled itself up and 
over, on to the level ground at the summit. By the 
time Madame reached the car the others were 
gathered about it, every one pleased and congratu- 
latory, praising the " pretty little car " and rejoicing 
with us in its success. 

The world is made up of unexpected things, but 
it is not likely that we shall ever feel greater pride 
in any accomplishment than we did at the moment 
after making that climb, or that we will ever forget 
our keen pleasure in having successfully conquered 
" the worst hill in Europe " (if such indeed it was). 
We felt as if we had made the little car as we walked 
around it, listening to the admiration and the generous 
praise of our chance acquaintances, who because of 
their interest in our success seemed like old friends. 

Without a word we then and there unfurled the 
little silken Stars and Stripes which we had bought 
that morning in Oberammergau and proudly tied 
it to the upright of the glass front, where it fluttered 
gayly until we took it off at Havre when the car was 
crated for its return trip. This custom of flying 
one's country's flag is general in Europe, and we 

[105] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

liked it so well that we were glad to adopt it, es- 
pecially now that that hard climb was successfully 
accomplished. There are Americans we know whose 
blood never runs the faster and whose spirits never 
rise at the call of a mere waving bit of red, white, 
and blue, but we cannot understand it. It is, in very- 
truth, the " emblem of the land we love," and even 
this now faded, ravelled scrap is to us " a grand old 
flag, though torn to a rag," and twenty times its cost 
would not tempt us to part with it. Many a time it 
has hung limp and dripping with rain, and many a 
time farther south its tough little staff bent before 
the howling mistral; twice its hem was flapped out 
and had to be resewn ; many a time it evoked curious 
questions from strangers, but never once were we 
without it or other than proud of it, and there were 
times when it brought a smile to lips and a gleam 
to eyes that recognized and loved it as we did and do. 

We waited a few minutes to let the other cars get 
well away, and then after plenty of trouble in 
starting went on towards Fiissen. 

Some of the roads near here were forbidden to 
motors, — a not infrequent state of affairs in Ger- 
many — so we had to go a round-about way and to 
ask often for directions. Each time we slowed up 
the engine stopped, and each time it proved harder 

[loe] 



BAVARIAN HIGHLANDS 

to start again, so that when, bejond Steingaden, we 
saw a big Packard car ditched, Madame was un- 
gracious enough to say, " Oh, if we stop to help them 
we'll have an awful time to start again," but of 
course we could not go bj two fellow country women 
and their haggard chauffeur with their beautiful ma- 
chine up to the front hubs in mire, its fender bent, and 
its glass front and lamps shivered to a thousand pieces. 

We passed them a few paces, then got out atid 
went back to see if we could help, if not more actively, 
at least by the comfort of our presence and our sym- 
pathy. Many peasants were standing about while 
some had brought planks and with a big ox team 
were making ready to pull the car out backward onto 
the road again. Meanwhile the ovnier and her 
daughter told us how it all had happened. 

They had been going along at a merry clip when 
they saw coming toward them a man on a wagon 
driving a team. They had blown their horn, and 
the girl on the front seat with the chauffeur had also 
wound lustily on a Klaxton, and they supposed that 
the man would turn out in good season. But he was 
asleep and it was not until the last minute that the 
honking woke him, then in a panic he jumped down 
and ran on the near side to his horses' heads. There 
was but one way to avoid killing him, as the auto 

[107] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

was going too fast to be stopped entirely and the 
chauffeur had boldly chosen, at the risk of their own 
lives, to ditch the car. That it and its occupants had 
gotten off so lightly was sheer good luck, for it had 
been under high speed and the ditch was a foot 
and a half deep, at the least. The wagon driver, 
indignant that he had been endangered, instead of 
being thankful that he had been spared the result of 
his own folly, had gone grumbling on, but willing 
helpers had come from the village, and before long 
the great oxen drew the car back into the road as 
easily as if it had been a child's toy cart. 

Every one was surprised to see how little serious 
damage had been done, and after the chauffeur had 
made sure that he could get under way again, we 
told them all good-bye and prepared to lead off, they 
preferring to follow slowly for the fifteen or twenty 
miles to Fiissen. But we could not start ! The last 
tiny spark was gone from our batteries, and no 
amount of urging could get another flash. 

Then it was their turn to help. The chauffeur 
took out his storage battery and gave us the neces- 
sary spark and we were able to run all right until 
we were obliged to stop again or go slowly, for, in 
the disordered state of our carburetor, to go slowly 
was to stop entirely, as we have said. It was a dis- 

[ 108 ] 



BAVARIAN HIGHLANDS 

agreeable predicament enougli, but there was noth- 
ing to do but to go on and trust to luck, and this 
we did, the big car promising to follow slowly and to 
give us a^nother spark if we should need it. The 
ladies were still nervous after their accident and in- 
sisted on running so slowly that we were soon out of 
sight. 

Like a more famous rider " come out of the west," 
we " stopped not for break " and " stayed not for 
stone," for five or six miles, comforting ourselves 
with the knowledge that help was following if we 
should want it at any time. And then there broke 
upon our eyes an unexpected fork in the road, both 
branches leading to Fussen. Which way should we 
go ? Which way would they choose ? There was no 
possibility of stopping or of slowing up to decide or 
to leave a token to guide them as to the course we 
had taken, so on we went, trusting that they would 
see our tracks and follow them. Shiny lakes and 
turreted castles flashed by us almost unseen, so anx- 
iously were we watching for any obstacle which would 
oblige us to slacken speed. 

At last we reached the city, leaned over the side, 
and called to a group of boys for one of them to 
jump in and guide us to the hotel. He had evi- 
dently done the like before, and understanding, 

[109] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

quickly hopped in, directed us around a corner or 
two, and we pulled up at the Gasthof sum Hirsch 
and were welcomed bj its English-speaking pro- 
prietor, Herr Schneider, who assigned us a large, 
delightful room, while the little car which had so 
bravely scaled the hill, was ignominiously trundled 
by green-aproned porters into the hotel garage. 

After luncheon we went out to ransack the town for 
dry cells, only to find that neither at the electric- 
light works nor the blacksmith shop nor at the factory 
nor anywhere else could such a thing be obtained. 
We found, however, a most agreeable and intelligent 
young man, the head of the lighting plant, Carl Six, 
and it was finally agreed, by dint of many smiles 
and bows on his part, and much execrable German on 
ours, that he would wire to Munich for a storage 
battery for us and have it charged and ready in the 
morning. 

The name Fiissen was formerly Fauzen, from the 
Latin Fauces Alpium, — the jaws of the Alps, for 
the town lies at the foot of the Fern Pass, a route 
which, leading through the Tyrol to Italy, was an- 
ciently of importance. We were not long in deciding 
that it is one of the most picturesque places to be 
found. It has only forty-five hundred inhabitants, 
but contains a castle of the fourteenth and fifteenth 

[ no ] 



BAVARIAN HIGHLANDS 

centuries, a suppressed Benedictine abbey, an old 
towered town wall, a rushing, greenisb-blue river, the 
Lech, and all about it lie the clean-cut, snow-clad 
peaks, or the soft shadowy forms of the more distant 
mountains. 

In the church of St. Magnus is shown the staff of 
its patron who was one of the first Christian mis- 
sionaries to Germany. He used this stick not only 
as a support in walking, but to drive out snakes, in- 
sects and rats, and long after his death its miracu- 
lous power was still so strong that once Oberammer- 
gau, sending for it to exterminate field mice, had to 
wait its turn, as the stick was in use elsewhere. 

We were too tired properly and systematically to 
do the sights of Fiissen, but sauntered about, enjoy- 
ing it generally and storing up treasure for " that 
inward eye which is the bliss of solitude.'' 

In the morning the accumulator still delaying, 
we went in a 'bus out to the old Guelphic castle, 
formerly Schwanstein, now Hohenschwangau — the 
upper swan's haunt. The castle has had a long but 
rather inglorious history, having been, in 1832, some 
years after its destruction by the Tyrolese, sold to 
Maximilian II, then Crovm Prince of Bavaria, for 
one hundred dollars. He entirely rebuilt it and 
it became the favorite residence of Ludwig II until 

[111] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

in 1869 when he began the beautiful castle of [N'eu- 
schwanstein, higher up on a spur of the Berzenkopf, 
on the site of the old castle of Yorder-Hohenschwan- 
gau. This modern structure is wonderfully situated. 
It has fine views of four blue lakes, the loitering 
Lech, some pretty formal gardens, the lovely water- 
fall and rocky gorge of the Pollat, the Marienbriicke, 
and far and near, in all directions, the glittering 
snows of the everlasting hills. These Bavarian 
Highlands are entrancing, less majestic, of course, 
than the Alps to which they lead, but allowing that 
sense of distance and aspiration which too closely 
circling stupendous hills entirely preclude. There 
is here no shut-in feeling, and one is not reminded 
of the long dread winter with the darkness and 
monotony which it must bring to the dwellers in the 
deep Alpine valleys. Rather, one feels delight in 
the free fresh winds, the brilliant sunlight, and the 
broad rolling country, and one lifts the eyes to the 
hilltops with a pleasure in their beauty and a happy 
interest in what must lie beyond them. 

The castle of Xeuschwanstein is planned some- 
what after the Wartburg, but is much larger. The 
rooms are gorgeously frescoed with scenes from 
" Tannhauser,'' " Parsifal,'' " Lohengrin,'' and other 
famous old legends and operas. The first floor is 

[ 112 ] 



BAVARIAN HIGHLANDS 

given up to offices and attendants' rooms, the second is 
unfinished, the third contains the king's private suite, 
and the fourth the minstrels' hall and throne room. 
In these richlj decorated but cold and uncomfortable 
rooms, with the shrieking of the wind among the 
many turrets and pinnacles of the castle, and the sigh- 
ing of the pines in the gorge, with the roar of the 
often swollen cataract in his ears, and with no friends 
to share his lonely grandeur, it is no wonder that poor 
Ludwig II became crazed and finally took his life, 
and though this did not occur here, on June 13, the 
anniversary of the event, both of the castles are al- 
ways closed to visitors. 

He loved Wagner's music passionately and did 
all he could to advance it. He was inordinately 
fond of swans, because of their connection with the 
opera of " Lohengrin," which he required to be pre- 
sented by the court troupe with himself the only 
spectator; he even played the part of Lohengrin 
himself and had a swan-shaped boat in which he 
floated on moonlight nights on the lakes nearby. 
The castle is maintained to-day just as he left it, 
and is full of swans — swans in gold, swans in silver, 
swans in carved wood, swans in tapestry, swans in 
china, swans in glass, swans in the frescoes — it is 

enough to have driven a man mad even if he had had 
8 [ 113 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

no vicious quitch in the blood, as Ludwig had, to 
make the matter easier. 

!N"euschwanstein is an imposing castle (and, alas, 
still unpaid for), but it is very fanciful and we liked 
better the sturdy tower of William the Conqueror at 
Lillebonne, and the Saucy Daughter of Richard the 
Lion Heart at Petit Andely. There is something 
strong, if savage, in them ; something not so romantic 
as this lone eyrie of the " moonlight king," but more 
like the ordinary sunlight of wholesome, everyday 
life. Poor fellow, his castles and his timely aid to 
Wagner will serve to keep green his memory in the 
great world, while the hearts of his own people, which 
were always loving and loyal, will continue so. 

On the way back to Piissen we were regaled by the 
loud-voiced description by a fat Herr Papa of a hunt 
in which he had recently ridden, in which the poor 
stag had manifestly run the gantlet, as there were 
hunters at each end of a fenced-in course, as well 
as in the middle. During the hunt, as he jovially 
bellowed to his neighbor across the aisle of the clat- 
tering 'bus, " everything possible was done for the 
comfort of the hunters." 

At Piissen, on our return, we found no news of 
the accumulator, but the next morning it arrived 
and Carl Six with it, and for two hours we all three 
worked installing it and adjusting the carburetor. 

[114] 



CHAPTER IX 

LAKE CONSTAN^CE 

WITH the car in order again, we had an 
early luncheon and started for some point 
on Lake Constance, not as yet fully decided. A lit- 
tle way out of town we passed the most curious 
shrine of all we saw on our journey. It was a 
great wooden cross, nailed to a bam, and on it were 
fastened not only a drooping figure of the Christ, 
but several large spikes, a long spear, a sponge, a 
crown of thorns, and other emblems of the terrible 
story. The whole made a gruesome thing enough 
looming up in its bareness in the dirt of that desolate 
barnyard. 

We finally concluded to stop at Lindau, at the 
extreme eastern end of Lake Constance, but by some 
mistake took the wrong roads and had much ado 
to keep from crossing the Austrian frontier, which 
we were anxious to avoid because of the very hi^h 
duty on the auto and the difficulty and loss of time 
in getting the money back if we should return to 
Germany through some customs place so small that 

[115] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

the supply of cash kept on hand bj the officials 
might not be sufficient to refund the full amount 
paid. 

But the afternoon was still so sunny when we 
reached Lindau, and the roads so good, and we so light 
of heart, that we could not bear to stop, and decided, 
just after we had crossed the toll bridge into Lindau, 
to recross it, much to the amusement of the re- 
splendent collector, and a trifle to the profit of the 
city, and go on to Friedrichshafen, where are the 
dockyards of Count Zeppelin's great airships. There 

the same conditions led us on to Meersburg and 

»» 

thence again to Uberlingen, where, tired but content, 
we pulled up at the Bad (Bath) Hotel. 

The scenery along this northern shore of Lake 
Constance is very winsome, in every way more like 
Italy than Germany. The lake, as we followed for 
miles along its border, was one sheet of glorious 
shifting color in the sunset. Vines were looped 
from tree to tree, and merry peasants sang on their 
way home from their work. Among them a sense of 
general happiness prevailed, very different from that 
which we had noticed before when going at the early 
evening hour through the more northerly Ger- 
man villages ; here, though the laborers shuffled 
through the deep dust of the roads with the imple- 

[116] 




XrEMORIES HAUNT THY POINTED GABLES " 



[ Page 71 ] 




• QUAINT OLD TOWN OF TOIL AND TRAFFIC 



[ Page 71 ] 



LAKE CONSTANCE 

ments of their toil on their shoulders, it was not 
with such a dog-tired, hopeless look. Thej did not 
drag wearily on alone, too apathetic and indifferent 
to care for company, but chattered in groups, whis- 
tling and calling cheerily to one another. 

All along, the shores were dotted with pretty 
gardens, vine-covered cottages and villages whose an- 
cient castles and scattering houses sloped to the 
water's edge, and seemed asleep and unaware that 
centuries were rolling by, leaving them unchanged, 
save by their crumbling into more and more charming 
ruin and decay. 

At first we were shown a room at the rear of the 
hotel, and when we declined to consider it, were 
told that everything else was taken but the rooms in 
the watch tower. The watch tower sounded unusual, 
but vastly more attractive than the shabby room open- 
ing on a stony street lined with a few dust-laden 
trees, so we asked to be shown thither, and the porter, 
though obviously disapproving, conducted us through 
the hotel and its gardens over narrow hedge-bordered 
paths to the edge of the lake, and then up and up 
to a large, many-windowed room at the very top of 
the old round-tower, and there we stayed, entranced 
with the view, until hunger persuaded us to go 
down to dinner in the big dining-room, where we 

[117] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

were clearly the only " English " present, for such by 
the foreign hotel-keeper and servant one is gener- 
ally assumed to be; and we may add that at this, if 
one's patriotism can endure it, it is better to let the 
matter stand, for the English in Europe are more 
dreaded, more revered, than the Americans and in 
consequence get better service and are less often sub- 
jected to imposition. After dinner we sat in the 
pretty electric-lighted gardens enjoying a band con- 
cert, and later went to our room, and revelled in the 
full moonlight, which, flooding the woods, the lake, 
the lightly tilting boats, and the distant Alps, made 
of it all a fairyland. 

Just as we were beginning to think of sleep, the 
hotel management sent a raft out into the water and 
shot off some colored fireworks. These, while fur- 
nishing a very mild excitement, were evidently 
greatly appreciated by the sedate family groups be- 
low, and made our one candle unnecessary, as we 
found it novel and amusing to undress by sudden 
flares of red and green, quick showers of golden rain, 
and vanishing glows of blue and purple fires. 
Hardly waiting for the last of the music, we fell 
asleep, to dream of our perfect one hundred and 
fifty kilometre run from Eiissen and the happy weeks 
of motoring yet before us. 

L118] 



LAKE CONSTANCE 

In the early morning we were awakened, as we 
thought, by the noise of a steamer below our win- 
dows, but on getting up a moment later to watch 
it, could see no rippling wake nor any least trace of 
smoke in the faint blue of the sky. Too sleepy to 
wonder much about it, we slipped back to our beds, 
nor ever dreamed until the proprietor told us later 
in the morning that the noise we had heard was made 
by Count Zeppelin's airship which had circled over 
our unsuspecting watch-tower. 

When we went to breakfast we counted the steps 
which our dislike of that rearward-looking room had 
entailed upon us, and there were in all one hundred 
and twenty — seventy-five to descend the tower, and 
forty-five to get from its base down the terraces to 
the level of the hotel. But it was worth it; a rope 
banister dangled invitingly to pull one's self along 
by in getting up ; and to look out of our windows and 
drop crumbs to the darting fishes below was too 
wholly fascinating an occupation to leave room for 
lazy regrets. 

Uberlingen boasts a mineral spring, fine lake baths, 
some remains of an old fortress, and a mediaeval 
council hall, but we did not exert ourselves to see 
them, rather sauntered about and filled ourselves 
with the quiet beauty of the scene. Madame de- 

[119] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

clared that it reminded her of some lines which she 
learned in her early youth, and which are really so 
applicable that we venture to insert them here: 

" Girt round by rugged mountains. 
The fair Lake Constance lies; 
In her blue heart reflected 
Shine back the starry skies; 
And, watching each white cloudlet 
Float gently to and fro. 
You think a piece of Heaven 
Lies on our earth below." 

At eleven o'clock we went on, reluctantly, yet with 
high hopes, to the Falls of the Rhine at Neuhausen. 
But alas for the high hopes! Almost at the very 
first we missed the road, and lost ourselves, having 
to retrace perhaps five miles before we came to the 
right turn again. Then we had a genuine hunt for 
the stupid little town of Thaingen, where, just be- 
fore crossing the Swiss frontier, we were to get back 
our deposit of one hundred and fifty-seven marks on 
the car. 

Finally we found the village and even the customs 
house and the customs officer, but only to be blandly 
informed that he had not money enough in his 
strong box to pay us. He was at first quite uncon- 
cerned about it, and assured us that in a few days he 

[ 120 ] 



LAKE CONSTANCE 

might have more, but when he saw how seriously 
incommoded we were he set his wits to work and 
thought up a town about a dozen miles away where 
he was confident that we could get our money. We 
had already been lost most of the time that morning 
and the prospect looked good for being even more 
lost before we could find this unheard-of town of 
Gaillingen, and yet obviously to Gaillingen we must 
go, so we asked the now interested official if he could 
not send one of the crowd of boys, as usual standing 
about, to point out to us the way. He at once 
agreed, but when it came time to start, not one urchin 
could pluck up courage to get into the machine. 
Matters seemed at a standstill, when suddenly, a well- 
built young man of probably nineteen stepped up and 
offered to go with us beyond the windings and blind 
turns an.d put us on the right road. We were glad 
to accept, and off we went, he sitting on the floor of 
the car and waving his hat a trifle sheepishly at the 
companions he had deserted. Questioning soon 
elicited the fact that he had never ridden in an auto 
before, and that he was almost delirious with delight. 
It was very fortunate that we had him with us, for he 
was thoroughly familiar with the way, whose wind- 
ings, forks, and few and misleading sign-posts would 
have made it a very confusing one, had we been alone. 

[121] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

We put on extra speed for his sake and he hung over 
the edge all excitement until we reached the main 
road to the town; there he looked so sorry that his 
ride was over that we offered to take him farther, and 
in the end he went all the way to the door of the cus- 
toms house in Gaillingen, sometimes openly lording it 
over the foot passengers, whom we met, and again 
scanning our faces with eyes as big as saucers when 
Madame told him of the shining opportunities wait- 
ing for him if he would go to America. 

This was such a favorite occupation with Madame 
that Monsieur declared her to be " the Great Ameri- 
can Booster." Perhaps she was, but her auditors 
seemed to enjoy her disquisitions, the only sad part 
being when all too often they would say, " I would 
go and be so glad to, if I could ever get enough ahead 
to pay for the passage.'' 

Our guide accepted gratefully the tip which we 
were equally glad to give, and started off to retrace 
contentedly on foot the ten or twelve miles that he 
had covered, at what must have seemed to him a 
whirlwind speed, while we knocked at the door of 
the customs office, only to learn that the man in 
charge would not be back for nearly an hour, as the 
place was closed on Sundays until two in the after- 

[ 122 ] 



LAKE CONSTANCE 

noon. This was a blow, but our looks of misery led 
the compassionate bearer of these bad tidings to go 
and hunt up the official and presently they were both 
there, and very much at our service, though it was 
only a few minutes nearer to two than it had been 
when we first arrived. * 

And then followed a struggle, for though weight, 
horse-power, size, and general marks and points tal- 
lied perfectly with the written description of the 
car which we had been given our first day on enter- 
ing Germany, a little lead seal which was described 
as hanging to the front axle was missing. In vain 
we labored to convince the man that even without the 
seal it was the selfsame car on which the deposit had 
been made : " Oh, no ; if so, where is the seal ? " 
The truth was that the paper had been carelessly 
made out and the seal had never been put on, and 
this we explained in fluent English and in horrible 
German, and though it was quite plain that he 
wished to believe us, still he could not understand 
how, without the seal described, this could still be 
the right car. A car with a leaden seal had ap- 
parently been admitted into Germany, and had paid 
its rightful deposit, and here a car without a leaden 
seal was trying to get possession of the money. !N'ow, 

[123] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

a car with a leaden seal and a car without sl leaden 
seal were obviously two different cars, and as the one 
described in the customs receipt was declared to 
have a leaden seal, why, then this car which had no 
leaden seal could not, in the very nature of things, 
be the same one. And so on, over and over, courte- 
ously, regretfully, but none the less persistently, till 
we decided that we might have to give it up and go 
on without the money. We interrupted our labors 
with him, while we pumped up a leaking tire, oddly 
enough the only one since the day we entered Ger- 
many, and while doing this Monsieur had a sudden 
idea, which was to have him compare the motor 
number with that in the license, and by this testi- 
mony even his faithful thickheadedness was partly 
persuaded, and when Madame urged him to consider 
that we had had no dinner, and that we should not 
get any until we had crossed the border, he finally re- 
lented, and, still greatly puzzled, gave us our money 
and let us go. We did not make any unnecessary de- 
lay for fear that he would change his mind, but hur- 
ried across the covered wooden bridge and into 
Switzerland, leaving him still uncertain whether 
he had not given the money to the wrong man, 
whether some day a man whose car had a leaden seal 

[124] 



LAKE CONSTANCE 

would not come past and demand again the money 
paid to the man whose car had no leaden seal. It is 
no wonder that the " Lieb Yaterland magst ruhig 
sein," if all her official sons are as stanchly law-re- 
specting as this one, and we believe that, in the 
main, they are. 



[ 125 ] 



CHAPTER X 

FALLS OF THE EHIl^E ZUEICH LrUCEENE 

IN^ again we climbed and ran on througli Scliaff- 
hansen to l^euhausen and the Hotel Bellevne. 
After dinner we strolled across the bridge and went 
np to Castle Laufen. This building, with a sort of 
papier-mache appearance, claims to be founded on the 
ruins of a very old fortress. Its one use and purpose 
now is to shelter a collection of music boxes, probably 
the most varied in the world. There are musical 
chairs, hat racks, jewel boxes, tables, clocks, and water 
bottles, and the whole air tinkles to melodies ranging 
from " Tannhauser " to the " Merry Widow.'' 

The castle is the entrance to the best view of the 
falls, and naturally catches a world of tourists, and 
no doubt a mint of money. There are three stations 
from which to observe the cataract, each lower and 
nearer to the water than the one above. The last 
one, called the Fischez, is an iron platform which 
overhangs the whirling abyss, and although Madame 
rented and put on a long rubber cape, when she 
stepped out on the platform a sudden spout of foam 

[ 126 ] 



FALLS OF THE RHINE 

flung itself over her, so that shortly we retired to the 
upper pavilion to dry her skirt in the sunshine and 
to enjoy the ravishing contrasts of color, the swirling 
blues and greens and glistening white, the dancing 
rainbows in the flying spray, the more distant quiet 
reaches of the river, and the dark masses of the 
woods and hills beyond. In the very midst of the 
downpour there is a rock with a tiny kiosk on its 
summit, to which people are rowed by two skilful 
boatmen, who also row them across to the other side, 
if desired, but we preferred to walk, and did so 
leisurely and restfuUy. 

These falls are the largest in central Europe, the 
actual drop being about sixty feet and the width 
above the fall three hundred and seventy-five feet. 
They are enthralling, but have, of course, none of the 
awful grandeur of Niagara. 

In the evening it rained in solid sheets, whose 
rushing mingled with the sound of the cataract, till 
we were glad to retire to one of the several comfort- 
able reading-rooms for which this hotel deserves a 
credit mark, there to read Bret Harte's California 
tales and to catch up some long neglected corre- 
spondence. About nine o'clock the rain ceased and 
the falls were illuminated, and though rather 
theatrical, the effect of the rockets, colored fires, and 

[ 127 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

searchlights was very pretty, and as every guest must 
pay for the illumination, whether he sees it or not, 
we looked interestedly enough till the last golden 
spark vanished and all had fallen again into myste- 
rious sound and darkness; then we went to our rest. 

In the morning it still threatened rain; in fact, 
it was through a sprinkle and a very wet and chilly 
world that we pulled out at ten o'clock for Ziirich. 

Just as we were working our way slowly down the 
crowded street in Schaffhausen, we saw a car coming 
and recognized it as the American one we had seen at 
Nuremberg, and again at Oberammergau. A wave 
of the hand, and a hearty " Are you all right ? " from 
the big car, and a " Fine, thank you," from the lit- 
tle one, and our brief acquaintance was over, but only 
those who have been for weeks in far places and 
without their countrymen can know how those few 
kindly words warmed the cockles of our hearts and 
made the rainy run to Ziirich brighter for the two 
in the little car. 

By the time we had covered the fifty-four kilo- 
metres, and reached the city, we were willing to 
stop, so we accosted a fine-looking young man, and 
Madame, in her best German, asked him if he could 
direct us to the St. Gotthard Hotel. He raised his 
hat, and with a beaming smile, in his native tongue 

[128] 



FALLS OF THE RHINE 

and ours, gave us the desired information. This is 
an experience that no one who speaks any foreign 
language ever yet escaped while in Europe. It is 
not pleasant to the one who asks the question, but he 
who replies and all the observant friends enjoy it 
greatly, so much so, in fact, that it seems to stick 
in their recollection, Madame declares, when vastly 
more important things are forgotten. It is not 
necessary to urge this point; a cloud of unseen wit- 
nesses can vouch for the truth of the statement. 

A good luncheon in the restaurant of the hotel 
warmed us up, but we felt it wise to wait until the 
next day and give the rain a chance to blow over. 

This is not even the faintest attempt at a guide 
book, so we shall not tell of the Concert Hall, the 
Polytechnic, the Library, the Swiss National Mu- 
seum, nor any of the many things for which the city 
is justly famous, for the reader can look them up in 
the guide book quite as well as we can, and will know 
fully as much about them as we do, for we may as 
well admit that we did not visit one of them — 
merely joined the damp crowd in the streets and 
strolled up and down, getting at least a sense of 
the one most important and characteristic feature of 
the city — its commercial and financial life. Ziirich 
is not beautiful, though attractively situated on Lake 
8 [ 129 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

Ziirich and on both sides of the Limmat, and said 
to have finer promenades than anj other city in 
Switzerland; but it is very much alive, and though 
proud of its past, it is still more proud of its present 
and of the increasing volume of business which 
flows through it, for the city is logically the gateway 
between the north and the south — a fact its shrewd 
tri-lingual business men are not inclined to forget 
or neglect. There are a great number of resident 
and transient English and Americans, and we heard 
more excellent English there than in any city of like 
size which we have ever visited in Europe, or per- 
haps we ought to say outside of Switzerland, for this 
is so truly the international playground that every- 
where — Lucerne, Geneva, and Interlaken, — it has 
been found profitable to learn the language spoken 
by so great a number of the players. We planned to 
get an early start the next morning, but in the end 
it was half-past ten or later before we got away. We 
had left the auto in a garage on the lake front, quite 
a distance from the hotel, to be washed, polished, and 
ready by eight o'clock, but when Monsieur got there 
he found the men were just starting on it and be- 
cause it looked so badly after its muddy run of the 
day before, felt that he must let them finish it. 

When they finally pronounced it done, and he 

[ 130 ] 




" JOLLY OLD HANS SACHS " 



[ Page 72 ] 



FALLS OF THE RHINE 

started out to return by the way he had taken both 
days to reach the garage, he found the streets for 
blocks so filled with the vegetable market that a police- 
man warned him oif. Of his German, Monsieur 
understood not one word, but his gestures were plain, 
so he turned aside and in trying to get back by an- 
other route lost himself hopelessly in the narrow, 
winding streets. For a while he wandered up one 
way and down another, always trying to keep in the 
general direction of the hotel and believing that in- 
stinct would finally bring him out right. But after 
a while, how long he never has told, he resigned all 
hope of getting back unaided, and remembering that 
the hotel was near the railroad station, took to hail- 
ing the passers-by and inquiring politely, " Can you 
tell me, ou est le Bahnhof ? " It must have been 
worth a good deal to hear him, and Madame will 
never get over it to think that she did not, but at any 
rate, no city could have been so well selected for 
such a conglomerate question, for both German and 
French are familiar to most people in Ziirich, and as 
we have said, English is also well known, and in an 
unexpectedly short time, he saw the Bahnhof and 
drew up before the hotel door, where in a minute 
Madame overtook him, for in despair of his coming 
she had gone out for a walk and, as luck would have 

[131] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

it, had heard his honk when he crossed a nearby 
street and had followed him, not being near enough 
in the crowds to call out to him. 

After he arrived it took but a few minutes to get 
the baggage on, settle the bill, do the tipping, and 
get away and out of town with the help of the map, 
on to the road to Lucerne. The rain had ceased, 
though the clouds still hid every vestige of the moun- 
tains, and after a stiff climb out of town we were able 
to stop and get a lovely view of it, seeing how the 
river divides it into the Grosse Stadt on the right and 
the Kleine Stadt on the left, while an unimportant 
stream, the Sihl, joints itself to the Limmat below 
the city. 

The smoke from the tall chimneys of the many 
factories streamed out like fluttering banners, waving 
us a farewell or beckoning us to return and do the 
city the justice of a more thorough inspection. But 
the High Alps called to us, and we went on to Lu- 
cerne, where, because we knew the town well of old, 
and because the clouds blotted out Rigi and Pilatus, 
and began to look more threatening, we stopped only 
for our mail and a picnic lunch, and directly went 
on over the Briinig Pass to Interlaken. 



[132] 



CHAPTEK XI 

THE ALPS TO LAKE GENEVA 

AT Zurich that morning they had thoroughly 
oiled and greased the car, tightened the bolts 
and examined everything, preparatory for our first 
real mountain climbing, but as we left Lucerne, it 
must be confessed, we had some doubts as to what our 
experience on the Briinig would be. 

The road was level and good to Hergiswil, where 
we were required to stop and register the car. A 
small card was given us with the time of registration 
stamped on it, which was to be surrendered at 
Briinig, where we could not leave the control until 
two hours had expired. 

At first the road followed the bank of Lake 
Lucerne, winding along beneath the beetling cliffs. 
The grade was slight and we could have made fast 
time, except for the fact that the curves made it 
impossible to see more than a hundred feet in 
advance and that the road was very narrow. We 
ate our lunch as we jogged along and tried to will 
away the threatening clouds and impending thunder 

[133] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

storm. At Giswil the real climb commenced. Here 
we stopped to replenish our water supply and as we 
waited two trains loaded with tourists, who seemed to 
be in a large majority our countrymen, started up the 
cog road. The passengers were deeply interested in 
the little car flying the American flag, and we repaid 
their interest with commiseration. To be obliged to 
climb the pass through tunnels, under a shower of 
cinders, with never a stop for an extended view of the 
beauties disclosed, seemed to us, from the comfort- 
able seat of our open roadster, a hardship. We fol- 
lowed soon and in less than a mile we were working 
under full power on the second, in another mile a 
sprinkle of rain warned us to put up the top and 
curtains, and we were hardly on our way again be- 
fore it came down in torrents. We labored on, the 
grade becoming greater with each mile; it soon 
ceased to be a pleasure excursion and became a test 
of engine and power and of the driver's ability to 
hold the road. Up, up we went, the view shut off 
on every side by the walls of rain and the road run- 
ning rivers and becoming slippery and dangerous as 
we pushed on. We had fretted some at the time 
limitation of two hours, but this was forgotten now 
in our desire to reach the top. At last the rain com- 
menced to stop, and as we pulled into Briinig it 

[134] 



ALPS TO LAKE GENEVA 

ceased entirely and the sun came out, and when we 
reached the control, we looked at the station clock 
and discovered that we had made the trip in three 
minutes less than the specified time and that the 
trains which had left when we did were just arriving. 
We went directly on to Interlaken and in a quarter 
of a mile started to coast, and except for braking pur- 
poses, did not use the engine again until we reached 
the valley. To Com Belt motorists the descent of 
that mountain seemed a considerable undertaking. 
A time or two we stopped to admire the snow-capped 
peaks or to step to the side of the narrow road and 
look down thousands of feet to the verdant valleys 
and the rivers which like blue ribbons curved below 
us. Time and again we met herds of goats and 
were amused at their wild flights up seemingly in- 
accessible cliffs, at the sight of the car. They were 
the only animals, other than man, which we saw in 
Europe afraid of the autos, and their efforts to get 
away made us thankful that they were not beasts of 
burden. About half-way down, a sullen grind ac- 
companied by most disquieting knocks commenced to 
come, apparently from the rear of the hood, and 
since a good many things were located there that 
would be injured if they became dry or loose, again 
and again we stopped to examine, but nothing ap- 

[ 135 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

peared to be wrong, though still we heard the unac- 
countable new noise. But the roadside was no place 
for a thorough examination and we decided to take 
the risk and go on to Interlaken and the Hotel du 
Pont and the next day to find the trouble and cor- 
rect it. 

Past the station at the head of Lake Brienz, down 
the long Hoheweg, by the Casino Garden, and across 
the river, to the familiar hotel we went, with the 
contentment that comes of feeling that the way 
is known, and then we stopped before the door, to be 
welcomed by old Pritz, the same porter who led us 
there on our first visit, and to have assigned to us 
the same room, to be greeted by the old, old landlady 
in cap and black silk gown, who was there before, 
and by her son, the manager, a man of sixty-five, yet 
dutiful and respectful to his mother as a boy of 
twenty. 

He was filled with regret that he could not remem- 
ber us as we did him, but seemed greatly relieved at 
our suggestion that we had been to only one hotel in 
Interlaken, while he had entertained many guests in 
these three years. The river which bordered the 
garden hurried by as rapidly as before, and there had 
been no changes, though we went about like home- 
comers rejoicing over every familiar thing. In 

[136] 



ALPS TO LAKE GENEVA 

a strange land, a spot that tells of other days, faces 
that one has known hefore and things that one has 
seen give one a feeling of content, especially after 
a ride like ours over the Briinig. 

The next day we put in between loitering about 
the town and working on the car, hunting first for 
the knock and grind which had so alarmed us the 
evening before, and which turned out to be nothing 
worse than a loose glass front. We put a new uni- 
versal joint sleeve on, stuffed it well with grease, and 
put everything in fine shape again for the run to 
Geneva, which we proposed to make on the following 
day. 

All this was not very diligent sight-seeing, and we 
knew it, but we had explored this region thoroughly 
before, from the depths of the Beatus Caves to the 
heights of Miirren and the Eiger Glacier, so we felt 
free to loaf and invite our souls, if changing an uni- 
versal joint sleeve can be called loafing or if stuffing 
the sleeve with heavy yellow grease can be called in- 
viting the soul. At any rate, we spent the day in 
a manner highly satisfactory and we knew, when 
we started out next morning, that if anything went 
wrong with the car, it would be through unavoidable 
circumstance and not from any lack of care on our 
part. 

[137] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

It was but little after eight when we started, with 
cordial good wishes from every one in the hotel, and 
began our run for some point on Lake Geneva, not 
as jet determined; a delightful feeling of freedom 
this, by the way, of being able to stop when and 
where we wished, not at some previously chosen 
spot for which tickets had been bought and which 
must be our goal regardless of our wishes and our 
state of weariness or freshness when that destina- 
tion was reached. The morning air was like wine, 
the roads beyond description, and the little car 
chugged out its gratitude for the care given it and 
we went on for miles through a world that seemed 
all our own. 

Before very long, however, we became aware of 
an auto in front of us, and, because it was a small 
one, and the man who drove it was bareheaded, and 
went at a reasonable, sensible speed, we decided 
him to be an American. A young fellow on a bicy- 
cle clung to the fender of his car, thereby getting 
a free ride, which finally resulted badly when he 
fell from his bike and one wheel of the auto ran 
over his arm, without, however, doing more than 
bruising it. We saw the accident and going more 
slowly soon observed that the other car was wait- 
ing for us. When we came up its driver was be- 

[138] 



ALPS TO LAKE GENEVA 

side us in a moment, saying that he was a Mr. S 



of Cambridge, Massachusetts, and had seen our flag 
and could not resist the temptation to chat with us 
a few minutes if we could spare the time. We 
were equally glad, of course, and a half-hour soon 
slipped away, while we exchanged cards and ex- 
periences by the roadside, to the amusement of the 
natives, who smiled at our chatter and our idleness, 
the while they trudged past us on their diligent oc- 
cupations. At length, however, Mr. S climbed 

into his car and started on for Thun and we too 
cranked up, and with a parting wave and honk we 
bade one another farewell, not all unlike the familiar 
*' ships that pass in the night and speak to each other 
in passing." 

Mr. S drove a Hudson, a roadster of practi- 
cally the same size and power as our car. He had 
landed in England and after spending some time 
there had made his way through Holland and Ger- 
many to Switzerland and was expecting to return 
through northern France to Havre. He had covered 
about the same distance that we had, with as little 
trouble and as much enjoyment. He spoke some Ger- 
man and was full of enthusiasm and confidence in the 
practicability of the small car as a means of tour- 
ing the Continent. His was the only small car from 

[139] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

this side of the water which we met or heard of while 
abroad, and he said that ours was the only one which 
had come to his attention. 

As we went on, the scenery grew more and more 
rugged, and we grudged every mile and every snowy 
peak that dropped behind us. 

In the eleven kilometres between Hohenegg and 
Rougemont we were amazed to see how abruptly the 
language changed from German to Erench, and al- 
most at once, too, the manners of the people became 
more courteous and obliging, though the change in 
their appearance was slower in making itself appar- 
ent. At Les Mosses, ninety-five kilometres from In- 
terlaken, we crossed the pass at an elevation of four- 
teen hundred and forty-eight metres (Interlaken 
is only five hundred and seventy) and found that 
we had to resort more than once to our new and as 
yet unpatented water-carrying device. This was an 
ordinary rubber hot-water bag which up to to-day 
had not done enough good to pay for its passage but 
which on these long climbs did yeoman service. We 
filled the radiator from it at the frequent mountain 
springs and then carried in it an additional supply 
sufficient to last until the next water was reached. 
This tendency of the radiator to get so very hot wor- 
ried and puzzled us, and continued to do so on the 

[140] 



ALPS TO LAKE GENEVA 

stiff climbs, until we reached the Pyrenees, when we 
found it explained, or at any rate suddenly, once and 
for all, relieved, as shall be told in due course and in 
the proper place. 

The view of the Dent du Midi from the Col des 
Mosses is superb. This high ridge is not only a pass 
and as hard a one as the Briinig, but is the water- 
shed dividing the tributaries of the Rhine from 
those of the Ehone. Perhaps, like rivers, languages 
have their watersheds; in any event, we climbed the 
heights among a German people and coasted smoothly 
into sunlit valleys and a gentler speech on the other 
side of the ridge. 

For miles we rode without seeing a human being, 
absolutely alone in a world of azure skies, deep 
gorges, rainbow-lighted cascades and wraith-like 
peaks, with no sound to break the solemn silence of 
these great heights and distances but the throbbing 
of the engine and the occasional tinkle of sweet-toned 
cow-bells from some unseen herd, browsing on a slope 
nearby; and knowing that we had crossed the Rubi- 
con, for that day we rested and revelled in the un- 
earthly beauty of the scene. 

From Les Mosses to Aigle is only nineteen kilo- 
metres, but the descent is ten hundred and thirty- 
eight metres, or about two hundred and eighty-five 

[141] 



ABROAD IlSr A RUNABOUT 

feet to the mile, whicli makes it easy to credit the mild 
statement of the guide book which says of the climb 
from Aigle up to the Pass that it includes " some 
rude hills." It is only a little distance from Aigle 
to Montreux, and almost at once we plunged into the 
very midst of fashionable tourist life, for Lake 
Geneva is always popular, and from Montreux to 
Lausanne is practically one all-the-year-round resort. 



[142] 



CHAPTER XII 

LAKE GENEVA AND LYONS 

WHO could stop at Montreux, attractive 
though it is, with Chillon unvisited and 
calling from only three kilometres away ? We went 
directly on by the lake, over a road, dusty from 
much travel, until suddenly the square old castle 
rose from the water. It stands on an isolated rock, 
twenty-two yards from the bank, and the whole looks 
not unlike a lump of stone which has broken off 
from some cliff and slipped into the edge of the lake. 
The castle itself, is rather lacking in interest and 
suffers from atrociously glaring restorations. Its 
interior looks more like a fire engine hall in Seattle 
than like a fortress that was old when the Crusaders 
went to Jerusalem. There is little about it that 
makes a romantic appeal, but one must be overcrit- 
ical who could feel no charm in the place, especially 
at this hour, for the sinking sun threw streamers of 
gold and crimson across the blue of the lake and the 
lapping wavelets made flickering ripples of light on 
the floor of Bonivard's dungeon. 

[143] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

All the world knows that Byron's story of Boni- 
vard is not the true one, but here at least we were 
disposed to be lenient, and not too nicely to discrim- 
inate between the poet's prisoner and the real 
Francis Bonivard, who was confined here from 1530 
to 1536 and who no doubt suffered more than enough 
of the agony which Byron describes, though he did 
finally return to his home and lived there a highly 
respected citizen, for more than thirty years after 
his liberation. The date of the castle is probably 
some time prior to 830, but it was strengthened by 
Peter of Savoy in the thirteenth century, who left 
it, save for the restorations, in much its present con- 
dition. It has served in more recent years as a state 
prison and as an arsenal but now is given over to 
the enthusiastic admiration of tourists and the sen- 
timental awe of crowds of schoolgirls who are in 
seminaries all along the north shore of the lake. 

Leaving Chillon, we went on through Clarens to 
Vevey, where we decided that it was time to stop. 
The only difficulty seemed to be to find some hotel, 
which was not too full of fashionably dressed Amer- 
icans and English, for the run had been dusty and 
we looked rather the worse for it, and even at best, 
motorists can hardly be expected to carry evening 
dress, yet can certainly not explain the cause of 

[144] 




" NUREMBERG IS INTERESTING " 



[ Page 75 ] 



k: 



LAKE GENEVA AND LYONS 

their shortcomings to other properly clad people. 
However, no doubt we were unnecessarily alarmed, 
and even here it would not have been really needed; 
if so, it was the first and last place that we found 
on our trip where we should not have felt entirely 
comfortable in our ordinary hotel attire. 

A few minutes of wandering about brought us to 
the Hotel du Pont, where, as the English say, 
" They did us very well.'' It is a typical travelling 
man's hotel, and in Europe as in our own country, 
he who will follow the drummer, the commis voy- 
ageur, will find himself sure of good bed and board, 
if not of luxury or display. In the evening we 
walked about the town and went early to bed, where 
we slept as restfully as if we had been in the three 
or four steepled hotels, which the guide book so 
temptingly set before our eyes. 

There is really not much to see in Yevey, and 
nothing to do but enjoy the mildness of the air and 
the beauties of nature, which are spread in a mag- 
nificent panorama in every direction as far as the 
eye can see, the Dent du Midi and all the peaks of 
Savoy stretching out in a long chain and looking, 
of course, much nearer than they are. 

After an hour or so spent in seeing the town we 
started on for Geneva, realizing that there was no 
10 [ 145 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

particular object in staying in Vevej, to enjoy the 
view, wlien we could feast our eyes on it at every 
mile of the road. And what a feast it was ! 

Sometimes we passed under avenues of plane or 
chestnut trees, beside vines heavy with the vintage. 
Sometimes through sleepy little towns and always 
over roads like petrified velvet, and with the stately 
procession of the mountains, keeping pace with 
us, the lesser peaks marshalled and dominated by 
the kingly, far-shining crest of Mont Blanc in the 
distance. 

In Lausanne, a flourishing city and all uphill, 
which is justly proud of its fifty-six thousand peo- 
ple, we stopped awhile admiring its bustling streets 
and reading in the guide book about the places which 
we ought to have visited instead, but we were cap- 
tivated by the road, and churches, museums, and 
tribunals did not sound enticing on such a day, so 
we soon went on again. Everything was going beau- 
tifully, save that we were growing ravenously hun- 
gry, till we were within fifteen miles of Geneva, 
then we suddenly felt a lurch and a wobble that in- 
dicated trouble and jumping out discovered that our 
rear tire was flat. At this moment from some 
giant's caldron below the edge of the world, huge 
clouds as black as pitch began to boil up and spread 

[146] 



LAKE GENEVA AND LYONS 

ominously over the heavens. We worked as rapidljr 
as we could, and were just ready to put away the 
tools when we discovered that the other rear tire was 
flat also. iNTo wonder the car had swayed! Once 
more we took out our tools and hegan, with one 
eye on our work and the other on the piled-up clouds, 
and just as it was all done found that there had been 
a leak in the inner tube and that it was all to do 
over again ! While we waited for the patch to dry, 
a friendly old man came trudging past and stopped 
to discuss with us the relative merits of the auto 
and the horse, considered from the point of view of 
those who desire to arrive somewhere. He stayed 
quite a time and then, cheerily assuring us that he 
was a born weather-prophet, and that a deluge was 
approaching, he lifted his battered hat and went on 
his way. 

The patch was dried at last, the tube was fitted 
in and filled, the tools repacked, the final inspection 
made to avoid leaving things, and we were off and 
reached the city and the Hotel Monopole before the 
deluge, which our old friend had prophesied, made 
its appearance ; indeed, if it came at all it did not so 
much as spatter the streets of Geneva. 

It was fully three o'clock when we were settled 
in our room, in the modest but well-located hotel, so 

[147] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

we merely had lunch and gave up the afternoon to 
seeing the town in a general way, enjoying its beau- 
tiful shops and fine quais and watching the clear 
swift water and the graceful swans which floated 
like lilies on its breast. We put in some time next 
morning with the auto, which was in a public garage, 
and later did a little necessary shopping. At the 
garage a young man, a mechanic and chauffeur em- 
ployed there, begged us to take him with us to care 
for the car, offering to go for thirty-six dollars a 
month and out of that to board himself ; but we were 
too well content alone, and though, of course, he 
could have saved us, at times, no little work and 
annoyance, we had no need of his four languages 
nor any place to carry him, and we did not take 
him, anxious though he was to have us do so. 

We let the few actual sights of the city go and in 
the afternoon drove about and went out to the pleas- 
ant Pare des Eaux Vives. We walked again in the 
evening on the quais, saw the Duke of Brunswick's 
mausoleum and talked of going to the Kursaal en- 
tertainment, but returned, and wrote and retired 
early instead. 

In the morning we left by ten o'clock for Lyons. 
We had to pass, at Bellegarde, the frontier and here 
again the customs man was much perplexed and dis- 

[148] 



LAKE GENEVA AND LYONS 

tressed by the absence of that trifling leaden seal, 
but he finally gave us our money and let us go. 

The run is about ninety miles and there are 
some lovely views and some steep grades. We were 
in no hurry, and made a long stop for luncheon at 
ITantua, and so it was four o'clock when, under heavy 
clouds, we ran into Lyons and to the Hotel des 
Etrangers, thinking to try for once, the last hostelry 
given in the book, and we may add that the experi- 
ment did not particularly recommend itself to us. 
It began to rain in the evening and literally poured 
for the greater part of the thirty-six hours, so that 
we saw very little of the city. However, this was not 
too serious a loss, for Lyons has less than almost any 
other city of like size in France to offer to the tour- 
ist. It is to-day much what old John Hughes tells 
us that it was when he visited it in 1819 — a " town 
of mud and money," and while we do not say with 
him that " from the specimen which we had, too 
minute a survey of it can hardly be edifying to any 
one but a scavenger," still we felt that if we must be 
kept in anywhere by the rain, we should prefer it to 
occur here, rather than elsewhere. 

Lyons is one of the oldest French cities, dating to a 
Greek foundation in 560 B. C, and is to-day a place 
of four hundred and sixty thousand inhabitants, and 

[149] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

the third town in size in France, and it is said that 
one-half the silk of the world passes through its 
warehouses. Here Cinq Mars and De Thou were be- 
headed, and here some of the most grisly horrors 
of 1794 took place. All this and more we knew, 
but with the best of good intentions, we really could 
not accomplish much sight-seeing, and of the little 
that we saw, it is no handsome public square nor 
the thronging miles of quais, no great building, but 
a simple sculpture of the Rhone and the Saone, 
which here unite, that has remained in our recol- 
lection. The Rhone is represented as a strong 
swimmer, every line of whose body is ease and power, 
and the Saone as a woman, lightly supported by his 
strength, swimming with him, yet with more of 
grace and leisure, less of energy in her motions ; both 
figures are clean-cut and arrowy and convey a sense 
of rushing strength, and the whole conception is full 
of force and beauty. 

All through the night it rained and when in the 
morning we started, it was with heavy clouds about 
us, and now and then a blur of mist which was gone 
again in a moment, but which was far from reassur- 
ing, with a long mountain run of one hundred and 
thirty-nine kilometres between us and Le Puy. 

[ 150 ] 



CHAPTEE XIII 

LE PUT AND THE CEVENNES 

THE first few miles of our route lay through the 
suburbs of Lyons, and there were many villas 
— 'uo doubt the homes of wealthy manufacturers in 
the city. At Givors the Rhone sends off a branch to 
the southwest, called the Gier, and this we followed 
for a time. So far all had gone well and gradually 
the clouds had lightened until we began to have hope 
of a good day after all. But at Eive de Gier the 
sky became rapidly overcast again and the country 
assumed an altogether different aspect, due to the 
fact that here we were entering one of the largest 
coal fields of France, Rive de Gier alone having more 
than fifty coal mines, as well as glass and iron works 
and other factories. St. Chamond, the next town of 
importance, has also collieries and factories and here 
the sky became perfectly black. Several of the 
towns hereabouts are connected by a steam tram line 
and we had to follow the tracks for miles, through 
practically one solid settlement, so closely were the 
houses built together. They faced directly on the 

[ 151 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

car line, and were poor and thickly inhabited. Here, 
if anywhere in France, there is no dying out of the 
race, for we saw plenty of pale, unchildlike chil- 
dren, though even here, there seemed to be many more 
men and women and all wretched, despondent, and 
threatening. 

Perhaps here, as at Decazeville farther south, the 
men work in danger and under terrible conditions; 
in some places there the beds of coal that are being 
mined lie under other beds that are burning, and 
there is ever present the fearful heat and the danger 
of its generating explosive gases. We were truly 
sorry for them and did not doubt that there were 
good causes for their drawn and haggard faces and 
looks of resentful discontent, but we had neither 
time nor desire to inquire into conditions, which we 
could by no possibility alleviate, and were only anx- 
ious to keep going till we should come to pleasanter 
places. 

Hardly a tree or shrub enlivened these towns, and 
once, looking back, we fairly shuddered — so black, 
near, and terrifying looked the clouds. They hung 
like a curtain and seemed puffed out by a wind, 
which toward the sides swept and tore them into long 
streamers, like floating crepe. The streets were full 
of dogs, and we drove v^th the utmost care, for the 

[152] 



LE PUY AND THE CEVENNES 

evil faces of the crowds of miners who were coming 
from their work, did not bode any good to those who 
should give occasion for revenge. We made up our 
minds that though the storm should burst furiously 
over us, we would still go on, rather than spend an 
unnecessary hour in such a forbidding spot. At 
Terre E"oire, the next town, iron furnaces and 
foundries did nothing to improve the situation, and 
at St. Etienne, while we knew the conditions to be 
the same, they were more or less out of sight and we 
were thankful to get into a big modern town again, 
with wide streets, good buildings, and the outward 
evidences of ordinary life. We were fully ready for 
luncheon too and found an excellent one just being 
served, which proved refreshing. In some way 
those mean, fierce faces and lowering clouds had 
gotten on our nerves, and we would have been glad 
for almost any sort of a change. 

This is a very rich and profitable region, yielding 
annually over three million six hundred thousand 
tons of coal, as well as millions of dollars* worth of 
weapons, cutlery, ironmongery, silk, and ribbons, but 
it is a place for the pleasure-seeking motorist to pass 
through quickly and but once. 

Five miles from St. Etienne we passed La 
Ricamarie, a similar, but smaller, industrial town, 

[153] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

near which are coal mines, one of which has been on 
fire since the fifteenth century. At Le Chambon 
Feugerolles, it was the same story and again at 
Firminy, but beyond here conditions changed; the 
grime and misery of the wretched huddling towns 
gave place to peaceful valleys and wind-swept up- 
lands, with now and then a ruined castle, or a herd 
of sheep and cows, and by the time Monistrol was 
reached the sun was trying to break from behind the 
clouds and it seemed like another country. 

From here to Le Puy the road was very hilly and 
the new water carrier was much to the fore, but we 
did not mind — we were once more out in the open, 
and had plenty of time before us. 

In every doorway now we noticed industrious lace- 
makers, for here lace and tulle had taken the place 
of the nails and pistols of the morning, and it 
seemed as if the years and generations of work in 
these very different materials had had their effect 
on the people, for these were vastly more smiling and 
kindly. Some &Ye miles before reaching Le Puy, the 
clouds gathered themselves and broke in a moment, 
and ^ve minutes later, with a shimmering rainbow, 
the whole storm scattered and we ran into the city 
in a glory of sunlight that glinted up at us from 

I 154 ] 



LE PUY AND THE CEVENNES 

every puddle and from every leaf, as if to say, 
" What a merry chase I have lead you all day, now 
go in peace," and it was really the last rain that we 
had, and the last time that the clouds worried us on 
our whole trip. Occasionally we caught a shower, 
of course, but from now on we were to be free from 
the distressing feeling of anxiety about the weather, 
which had taken a good deal of the zest out of Ger- 
many, for us, as it would take it out of a sojourn in 
the Elysian Fields themselves. 

We had agreed, in view of our experience in Lyons, 
to take the best hotel on the list this time, so in- 
quired our way to the Hotel des Ambassadeurs and 
were told that it was only a little farther on in the 
same street. Three times we had to ask, and three 
times we passed the very door, before we could find 
any place to go in, a yawning arch with no sign, 
leading into a dilapidated-looking court, forming all 
the entrance, but once inside we found satisfactory- 
accommodations and had later the pleasure of watch- 
ing another car pass three times in front of the door 
before finding it. 

It was splendidly clear and bright the next morn- 
ing, and at breakfast we learned that it was the sea- 
son of the annual pilgrimage to the shrine of Our 

[155] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

Ladj of France, which explained the crowds that we 
had remarked in the hotel and on the streets the pre- 
vious evening. 

The first place of interest in the town is the 
cathedral, which has some Tiniqiie architectural fea- 
tures, and — we grieve to saj it — an odor un- 
equalled, prohablj, in the civilized world. It was 
full of devout pilgrims, who did not seem to need us, 
so we made only a short stay and went to see the Rock 
of Comeille. 

This rock forms the summit of Mt. Anis, a vol- 
canic mass four hundred and twenty feet high, the top- 
most point of the town, and is itself topped by a colos- 
sal statue of ISTotre Dame de France, fifty-two feet in 
height and made from two hundred Russian can- 
nons taken in the Battle of Sebastopol. This figure, 
which holds in its arms an infant Christ, stands on a 
pedestal twenty feet high and may he ascended by 
narrow winding stairs on the inside. There are fre- 
quent resting-places and on them apertures from 
which sweeping views of the Cevennes, the worn old 
town, and even of the Gerbier de Jonc, in which the 
Loire rises, may be had. 

'Near to the Rock of Corneille rises another and 
even more incredibly abrupt pinnacle of rock, crowned 
by the tiny church of St. Michel d'Aiguilhe. 

[156] 




AN INCREDIBLY ABRUPT PINNACLE OP ROCK, CROWNED BY THE 

tint: CHURCH OF ST. MICHEL D ' AIGUILHE " 

[ Page 156 ] 



LE PUY AND THE CEVENNES 

These masses of roek rise like sugar loaves, they 
stand up as prominently as the traditional sore 
thumb and fill the beholder with wonderment, bring- 
ing with them a realizing sense that the whole 
country hereabouts is the result of unimaginable vol- 
canic activity. The word '^ Puy " means peak, and 
this section of France is full of them. We descended 
the many stairs from the top of the Virgin's image, 
and crossing a short distance between, waylaid more 
than once by wrinkled old lacemakers, ascended the 
two hundred and seventy-seven more steps to the 
curious ancient chapel of St. Michel which dates 
from 962. The entrance is adorned with strange 
bas-reliefs and the whole little gem of a place is odd 
and interesting in the extreme, though there is not 
much but a tiny chancel and a small nave sepa- 
rated by heavy low pillars, from the still smaller 
aisles. It was deserted save for ourselves, and we 
stayed quite a while, studying its archaic carvings, 
evidently brought here from some much older build- 
ing, and marvelling at the country spread before us, 
trying to pick out the way by which we had come, 
and that by which we were to leave and wondering 
what weather and what fortune were to greet us be- 
yond the great wall of the Cevennes, which we must 
cross before we could sleep that night, as we had 

[157] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

planned, witli tlie rushing of the mighty Rhone in 
our ears. 

At last we tore ourselves away, and returning 
wandered about the town, saw its low massive Tour 
Pannesac, once a gateway in the thirteenth century 
town wall, and, in strange neighborliness, a statue of 
Lafayette. It brought our country vividly before 
us, to see this memorial to the stanch young friend 
of Washington who was wounded at Brandywine, 
and whose tomb in the cemetery of the Picpus in 
Paris is every year on Independence Day the scene 
of a solemn tribute of gratitude and is heaped with 
flowers by an adopted but a grateful people, who do 
not always and entirely forget. 

It was after one o'clock when we pulled out of 
the stony court of the hotel and crossed the Borne 
013. a good bridge but in full view of an old and 
broken one, which was so pretty that we stopped to 
photograph it. The scene was like the drop curtain 
of a theatre,- and even in the picture retains much 
of its charm. 

We were aiming for the Phone, but where we 
should spend the night was left an open question, to 
be decided by circumstances and the pleasure of 
the moment. The car was running well, the sun- 
light was brilliant, a fresh wind blew and a charm- 

[ 158 ] 



LE PUY AND THE CEVENNES 

ing country lay about us, with a still more fasci- 
nating one to come, and we had not a care. The 
first fifty-three kilometres, to St. Agreve, were 
nearly perpendicular in places and on the tops of 
the hills it was cruelly cold, while the wind, which 
below we had enjoyed as fresh and bracing, now cut 
like a knife, so that we opened the auto trunk and 
took out the warmest wraps we had. E^ear the sum- 
mit, at Pont de Mars, we paused again to ask for 
water for the car. We had stopped beside a miser- 
able hut and after asking a little girl for the water, 
Madame chatted with the parents while Monsieur 
let the machine cool before filling it. The father 
was bringing out a fine cow from one end of the 
house and was evidently going to yoke it with an- 
other, which was ready and waiting in front, while 
the mother and little girl stood anxiously near, 
greatly excited over what was going forward. Our 
interest soon induced them to explain the situation. 
This, it seemed, was the first time that the younger 
cow had ever been hitched, and the ceremony was a 
great event in their colorless lives. We told them 
that where we lived no one worked the cows, whereat 
they all exclaimed, "What — they just keep them 
for the milk ? " It was an unheard-of waste to their 
frugal minds, for, as the woman said, " A cow can 

[159] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

do a great deal of work, though she is not really 
strong, and one must be content to be slow and pa- 
tient with her.'^ They told us that a good animal 
was worth three hundred and fifty francs, and we felt 
relieved to know that they had even as much as the 
one hundred and forty dollars, which the two cows 
represented, standing between them and actual want. 

Very timidly, for fear of hurting Madame's feel- 
ings, they asked where we were from, saying that 
she did not speak exactly as they did, but by no 
means implying that her method was not greatly 
superior to their own. When Madame told them 
that we were from the United States, all interest in 
the cows was forgotten, and they accepted the coin 
Madame gave them and bade us farewell as if the 
simple statement had thrown them into a trance. 

The tops of the Cevennes yield excellent pasture, 
so we are sure that the gentle, old-ivory colored cows 
will fare fully as well as the master and mistress, 
whom their labor and their product support; indeed, 
there is not so much to choose between the two lives, 
— • in each a day of toil, more or less suffering if the 
weather is cold, the necessary food, a night of sleep, 
and the end thereof is peace. 

The Pont de Mars marks the summit of the ridge 
and from there on, the way was down hill to the 

[ 160 ] 



LE PUY AND THE CEVENNES 

river, another fifty kilometres, and we coasted prac- 
tically all of the distance. 

Once or twice we came to a sudden stop to avoid 
the rush of tall trees which were being cut high up 
on the hillsides and allowed to slide down to the 
road, where they were pulled away to the mills, but 
these dangerous places were always marked by signs 
at each end and the lumberers were unfailingly 
prompt in moving the logs if they blocked the way. 

The wind gradually became less keen, once in a 
while we glided through a hamlet, now and then we 
saw a sparkling waterfall, and always the hills un- 
folded and slipped from behind one another, the 
dark forests came close or drew back with puffs 
of balmy air in our faces, the birds wheeled below, 
the far clouds sailed serenely above and the little car 
chortled merrily on its lazy way, as if well content 
with the consciousness of good worli done, and we 
rejoiced over every new vista that met our eager 
gaze, only lamenting to see the speedometer count 
off the miles of the ribbon-like roads over which we 
ran. It was delight unadulterated and the finest 
ride which we had yet had, but at last we reached 
the level of the Erieux and crossed and recrossed it 
until it joined the larger river, near La Voulte sur 
Rhone. 

il [ 161 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

Here, as dusk was upon us, we decided to stay 
for the night at the Hotel du Musee, the best in town 
although it did not look particularly inviting, nor did 
it " deceive its looks," as our good old colored maid 
used frequently to say. Our room, though evidently 
the best in the house, was in the garret, with rough 
hand-hewn rafters and unpainted boards, but with 
two windows from which we had lovely views up and 
down the river, the sound of whose flood, as we had 
promised ourselves, stole pleasantly in, mingled with 
the chatter of the villagers, as they flocked to the 
little square, to some sort of travelling show whose 
flaring torch lit up the inky darkness under the trees. 
The dinner and the toilet facilities of the hotel we 
are forgetting as fast as our unfortunately retentive 
memories will permit. 

Morning found us anxious to be off ; so, after feed- 
ing a friendly dog most of our soggy, sour rolls and 
patting the little donkey which shared our garage — 
or which, more truly, shared his stable with our 
auto — we set out for a stroll. The town has 
twenty-seven hundred inhabitants, but must at one 
time have been a more considerable place, to judge 
from the decaying houses and the crumbling castle 
which dominates all. !N'owhere in the town could 
we get information as to this grim old edifice, 

[162] 



LE PUY AND THE CEVENNES 

even Baedeker merely speaks of it as " an ancient 
fortress." 

Spanning the river was a ^e new suspension 
bridge, to Livron, but this and the auto were the 
only signs of an era later than the Middle Ages. 
There seemed little to see and less to be learned 
about the town, so we rolled away by half-past nine, 
for what we had long felt would be a particularly in- 
teresting ride with the fascinating goal of Avignon 
at its end. And we were not disappointed. 



[163] 



CHAPTEE XIV 

THE RHONE AND AVIGNON 

ALMOST all the way the road clung close to 
the river, through stony, unlovely villages, 
with mulberry trees in abundance, now and then, 
as at Rochemaure, a towering old castle loomed' 
above us, and at Cruas an ancient fortified abbey 
held itself aloof on a jutting crag. At Le Tiel we 
crossed the river on a suspension bridge, and 
pounded over a rough, dusty road to Montelimar, 
with no more exalted motive than to get some of its 
world-famous nougat. Montelimar is a prosperous 
place of thirtoen thousand people, and has an an- 
cient castle, but its sweetmeats were what we 
sought and what we found, and these, with one ex- 
ception, form our only distinct recollection of the 
place. The other is the memory of an empty stony 
square, and at the end of it a whitewashed hotel, 
from which streamed out the brilliant red, white, and 
blue of a big new American flag. Had it been any- 
where near luncheon time that would have won us, 
but as it was, we bounced back over the wretched 

[164] 



THE RHONE AND AVIGNON 

road, across the long bridge and to Le Tiel again, 
our sticky treasure safely in our pockets. 

Le Tiel has also its ruined castle, and, much more 
in evidence, large manufactories of lime and cement, 
and here we began to notice the strength of the wind. 
It had blown the powdered lime dust until the town 
was as white as a leper — not one green leaf, not 
one human-looking man or woman could be seen. 
It filled the eyes, the hair, the lungs, the very air 
seemed unbreathable, and we were glad to hold 
our heads low and get beyond the town as fast as 
the cut-up state of the roads would permit. 

At Viviers sur Rhone, eight kilometres beyond, we 
found the same situation, and at several places far- 
ther on. It was the very antithesis of the ride 
through the coal fields two days ago. So strange, 
so gaunt and barren a country we had seldom seen 
and certainly did not suppose that such a region 
existed in Erance. For miles we rode with the 
swift river on our left and at our right great white 
limestone cliffs, carved and worn by the fierce wind 
into weird shapes that loomed over us fantastically, 
like the figures of a hag-ridden dream. At times 
we almost felt that we too were scudding by like 
white wrapped, uncanny figures, driven not by the 
honest motor under the hood, but by the shrieking 

[ 165 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

mistral, "wliicli blew with ever-increasing fury be- 
hind US. 

All day we hardly met an auto, but it was very 
generally market day and hundreds of people passed 
between the towns going and coming with their wares 
and purchases. Indeed, when we arrived at Pont 
St. Esprit, with appetites whetted by our hours in 
the open air, we found the place so thronged with 
people, brought together by the cattle fair, that we 
were fain to unwrap another morsel of nougat from 
its silver paper and press on to Bagnols sur Ceze, 
where we were fully repaid for our suffering by 
the excellent luncheon which the Hotel du Louvre 
spread before us, after which stop we ran on to 
Avignon, and the Grand Hotel d' Avignon. 

This hotel, though not so popular with tourists as 
the De FEurope, is more central in its location — a 
fact which we have come to believe is of great im- 
portance. When one is a little tired, if off at the 
edge of town, one will nine times out of ten stay in 
to rest, rather than make the exertion of going to 
see things, whereas if one were near to them one 
would be much more likely to go, and in the interest 
of the places seen entirely forget the fatigue. So we 
pressed sternly by the " good cuisine " which 
Baedeker credits to the " old and established " De 

[166] 




•• A VISION OF OLD WORLD GERAL\NY " 



[ Page 77 ] 




EACH AS NEAT AS A PIN. THE WHOLE LAID OUT IN STREETS AND 
LOOKING LIKK THE COTTAGE SYSTEM OF SOME SANITARIUM " 



[ Page 77 ] 



i 



THE RHONE AND AVIGNON 

PEurope and were content in tlie other, which was 
within five minutes' walk of the palace and the beau- 
tiful promenade of the Rocher des Doms. 

Of course, there is but one first thing to do at 
Avignon and that is to visit the Papal Palace. This 
loftj, gloomy Gothic pile was under construction 
from 1316 to 1364 and was the residence of the 
Popes until 1377, during the period commonly 
known as the Babylonish Captivity and covering 
the reigns of seven popes, of whom Clement V was 
the first. Only from a distance, say from the 
bridge or from Villeneuve les Avignon across the 
river, does the palace make an imposing impres- 
sion, thence its position on a cliff, almost two hun- 
dred feet above the river, gives it a dignity which, 
seen near at hand, it lacks. It fell to the low estate 
of a barrack many years ago, and as such has re- 
mained until recently; now, however, it is being 
cleaned and restored and will be used as a museum. 
It makes on the beholder the impression of being 
larger within than without, and is a wilderness of 
corridors, stairways, and rooms of all sizes, and 
doubtless, for all purposes, into many of which it 
would probably be wiser not to inquire, even if any- 
thing were to be learned about them. The renova- 
tions are bringing to light staircases hidden in the 

[167] 



ABROAD IN A RUIS^ABOUT 

thickness of the walls and bits of elaborate frescoing 
that have been covered up with whitewash, for no 
one can say how many years, but still the fact is 
that for some unexplainable reason it seems a par- 
ticularly disappointing place, singularly lacking in 
points on which to hang the gorgeous vestments of 
one's imagination. There is an approach to truth 
in Henry James' observation that it is " the dreariest 
of all historical buildings." Under some of the 
Popes, during the years of the Great Schism, the 
Papal court here became more than royal in its 
splendor, a magnificent stud of horses pranced 
through the streets, hosts of liveried retainers, 
courtiers, and attendants crowded the court-yards, 
while self-seeking bishops fawned not only on pre- 
lates, but on handsome and imperial mistresses, who 
exerted their evil influence over a court, the exam- 
ple of which made of Avignon the moral sink of 
all Christendom. Petrarch, in his letters, speaks 
with loathing of it, and says that beside it Rome, 
for ages steeped in vice, was a model of virtue. 
The Palace was largely built by James Fournier, 
who, as Pope Benedict XII, spent upon it vast sums 
from the heaps of treasure, eighteen millions in 
golden florins and seven millions in plate and jewels, 

[ 168 ] 



THE RHONE AND AVIGNON 

piled up by his unscrupulous predecessor, John 
XXII, the son of a cobbler from Cahors. 

But if the palace is without charm, and if the 
Cathedral next to it is hideous with its awkward 
gilt Madonna perched on top of the tower, still the 
adjacent park of the Eocher des Doms makes up for 
it all. This promenade crowns the precipice three 
hundred feet above the river and commands a view 
which at sunset has few rivals. It has been likened, 
and justly, to that from the Pincian Gardens. In 
silence we drank it all in, the stately, far-flung river, 
with which we had travelled and on whose banks 
we had stayed, the tumbled Cevennes whose gentle 
slopes and sharp climbs alike we had experienced, 
and farther away and dimmer the great Alps — we 
felt that we knew and loved them all. ^N'earer at 
hand are the grim old city of Villeneuve les Avignon 
and the broken bridge of St. Benezet, which looks 
as if a giant had thought to cross to the old tower 
of Philippe le Bel and then at the fourth stride had 
changed his mind and returned whence he started. 
All these, with the bosky gardens through which we 
wandered made a picture in the sunset glow which 
was wide and beautiful. Our eyes were gratified and 
our imagination fired by the sight and the thought 

[169] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

of the powerful river whose course could be traced 
almost from the mountains to the sea, and with the 
river came another force, rushing from the Alps to the 
ocean, a less palpable one, but none the less real, 
the strong wind called the mistral , from, magistral, 
the master wind. 

This wind is no ordinary breeze, but a current of 
cool air which whirls down from the heights of the 
Alps and the Cevennes, to fill the vacuum left by 
the rising of the super-heated air, over the semi-arid 
regions stretching south from Avignon to the sea. 
It blows by day and night, sometimes for weeks, 
and at times with such violence as to make the river 
impassable to ordinary craft. In 1845 it destroyed 
the suspension bridge between Beaucaire and Taras- 
con, and all through this country tall hedges of 
cypress have been planted to break its force and 
to prevent, if possible, the sifting of the sand 
and limestone dust into houses, gardens, and vine- 
yards. 

These long straight lines of trees present a strange 
appearance, grisly, whitish gray on one side, on the 
other a rich dark green ; sometimes they form an al- 
most light-proof wall thirty to fifty feet high, with- 
out which the crops would be actually blown out of 
the ground; the railroads are thus protected for 

[ 170 ] 



THE RHONE AND AVIGNON 

miles, for the force of the wind is such that even 
steam must reckon with it. 

But to return to the Kocher des Doms ; we strolled 
there, blown about but fascinated, until the sun sank, 
a ball of fire, below a horizon promising fair weather, 
and then we went back to our hotel, where we had a 
large, handsomely furnished room with two beds, two 
wash stands, two carved wardrobes, and many chairs 
and tables, for one dollar and sixty cents a day. 

During the night Monsieur woke suddenly, feel- 
ing his bed shudder under the blast of the mistral, 
and in a moment became conscious of a faint noise at 
the door. While he lay listening, it came again, and 
in a moment again and sounded as if the lock were 
being softly tried from the outside. It was as if a 
hand gently, and with an ill-fitting key, turned the 
lock partly over and then it slipped back. Several 
times he heard the noise, then bethought himself that, 
as a streak of light showed under the door from the 
electric bulb in the corridor, he would be able to dis- 
tinguish, if there were feet near the door. Very 
softly he raised himself on his elbow, looked, and 
sure enough saw the dark shapes of two shoes hud- 
dling close. Holding his breath, he decided that he 
would keep watch and the moment that the key held 
and the lock really turned back and the door began 

[171] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

to open he would jump out on the burglar, with a yell 
which would frighten him as he had never been 
frightened in his life before. With ears alert, eyes 
on the dark patches outside the door, and nerves 
strained, he held himself in readiness and presently 
the noise came again, this time so loudly and accom- 
panied by such a rattling of the whole door, and a 
quivering of the bed, thait he realized in a second that 
it had been only the wind buffeting the house with 
increasing power, and those crowding shoes — his 
own of course — which he had put there for the boots 
to shine, as he did every night, and as everybody does 
in the hotels in Europe. In an expansive moment, 
later, he told the story, and more than once since it 
has furnished our friends and ourselves a hearty 
laugh at his expense. 

For the next day we decided on the excursion to 
the Fountain of Yaucluse, famous as the haunt of 
the Italian poet Petrarch, whose sonnets to his Laura 
are beloved of lovers the world over. 

The story is confused and the truth hard to get 
at, but this much is clear: the poet, beguiling as best 
he could his exile in Avignon, at about the age of 
twenty-one, chanced one day to enter a church and 
there saw the beautiful Laura de Sade, a girl of 
twelve to eighteen years, or, as some say, her mother, 

[172] 



THE RHONE AND AVIGNON 

Laura de ISToves, wife of Hugo de Sade ; at any rate, 
whether maid or matron, he fell in love with Laura 
at the first glance, and though no one can say how 
much they saw of one another later, it is certain 
that he never married her. 

To comfort himself he took to writing the son- 
nets, many of which are purely lovely, while others 
contain much that is offensive to modem ears, not 
accustomed to so bold a hand upon the lyre. 

In 1337 Petrarch retired to the fountain of Yau- 
cluse and there lived and v^rote, and a more ideal 
spot for an earnest student or a despairing lover 
nursing his bleeding heart in solitude it would be 
hard to find. 

The fountain or spring now, as in Petrarch's time, 
of water clear, fresh, and sweet, has its rise in the 
infiltration of rainfall in the limestone plateau which 
extends eastward to the Durance, and which crowns 
a perpendicular *wall of rock. At the bottom of this 
sheer cliff, six hundred feet in height, lies the spring ; 
in low water, a quiet pool; in the full season, a 
sparkling, gushing fountain, whose twenty-six thou- 
sand gallons per second are soon gathered together 
and form a little stream, which thriftily turns the 
wheels of paper and woollen factories, and farther on, 
becoming of the size for christening, is knovrn as the 

[173] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

Sorgiie. The spring in its basin, perhaps thirty feet 
■wide, was still and clear when we were there, as 
at that season of the year the supply of water is 
small; and we climbed down and peered far into its 
shadowy cavern, trying to think how its tinkling 
must hav^ set itself to the poet^s liquid rhymes in the 
long past days when he drank of its " chiare, fresche 
e dolci acque/' or scaled the nearby rocky promontory 
to cheer himself, in the company of his friend, the 
Eishop of Cavaillon, the ruins of whose chateau loom 
neighborly on the high bank. 

At length we turned and followed the miniature 
cascades and windings of the newborn river, to a 
restaurant, where a brigandish-looking Boniface 
served us luncheon. A cat and two kittens shared 
our repast, politely sitting on the extra chair so long 
as we were attentive to their wants, and when we 
were not, jumping to our laps and claiming insist- 
ently what we had looked upon as largess. The inti- 
mate air of the little feast was enhanced when the 
talkative bandit, seeing that our carafe was empty, 
seized it, and, stooping, let it gurgle itself full in the 
limpid stream beside us. 

Luncheon over, we rolled out from the shelter of 
the vale into the shrieking tumult of the mistral. 
At times the car seemed to cower under the fierce 

[1Y4] 




•• THE GASTHOF ZUM HIKSCH AND ITS ENGLISH-SPEAKING 

PROPRIETOR " 

[ Page 110 ] 




ONE Ln^TS THE EYES TO THEIR StrNOHTS ^^^TH A PLEASURE IN 

THEIR BEAUTY " 

[ Page 112 ] 



THE RHONE AND AVIGNON 

gusts, whose strength, was sucli that our progress was 
slow and our ears rang for hours from its whizzing, 
stinging blasts. 

When we reached the city again we circled its well- 
preserved walls, which were built between 1349 and 
1368. They are continuous and have intact their 
battlements, their seven gates, and their thirty-nine 
towers. But they are low and do not look as if they 
were ever erected for defence, the regularity of their 
machicolated battlements reminded us of the choco- 
late-coated walls of some candy fortress in an ex- 
position, and they left us cold, after the stout old 
ramparts of Rothenburg and jN^uremberg, nor did 
they later gain by comparison with Aigues Mortes 
and Carcassonne, though larger in circuit than either 
of these. 

After a short rest for cleaning up and a much ap- 
preciated long breath in the windless calm of our 
big room, we set out again, this time in an old trap 
of an omnibus for the crumbling town of Yil- 
leneuve les Avignon across the Rhone. 

Just as we had crossed the long bridge, which spans 
the river, here divided by a considerable island, we 
heard a pleasant voice asking in English for a mo- 
ment's use of Baedeker, and turning saw a middle- 
aged lady, whose smile attracted us at once. When 

[175] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

we presently descended from the 'bus slie did also, 
and followed us a step or two until we asked if she 
would not like to accompany us. This once busy 
town has now only twenty-nine hundred inhabitants, 
and most of those look as if they would soon be gath- 
ered to their fathers, from sheer lack of interest in re- 
maining alive. The only things worth visiting are 
the fort of St. Andre and the Chartreuse du Val de 
Benediction, the latter founded by Innocent YI in 
1356. Its decaying courts and archways now shelter 
gossiping old crones and ill-mannered boys, whose 
curiosity provided us with an imdesirable cortege, 
which was difficult to shake off. The old fort is on a 
rise of ground and glowers harmlessly over at the 
Papal city, a very gentle reminder of more savage 
days. The chief remains of the ancient citadel are 
two great round towers and a long line of ruined wall 
stretching about an empty court, where the sun shone 
brilliantly and the mistral grew so boisterous, that 
we begged to carry all the small impedimenta of our 
new acquaintance, that she might have both hands 
free to keep her balancing hat from flying off, prob- 
ably all the way to the sea. The view of the larger 
city, now of course much reduced from its former 
size, was magnificent, and the bridge of St. Benezet 
hardly less attractive from this side than from the 

[176] 



THE RHONE AND AVIGNON 

otlier. This famous bridge was in construction from 
1177 to 1185, and stood until 1669, when fourteen 
of its arches and a like number of its piers were 
swept away. 

Erom it French children have derived their 
equivalent of " London Bridge is Falling Down,'' 
but here the song is: 

" Sur le pont d' Avignon, 
L'on y danse, Ton y danse, 
Sur le pont d' Avignon, 
Tout le monde y danse en rond." 

On the second pier of the bridge is a little chapel 
dedicated to St. Benezet, and on his day, April 14, 
each year a mass is celebrated here. The story goes 
that a simple shepherd, Benedict or Benezet, a 
diminutive thereof — as the man was an undersized 
fellow — distressed by the many accidents which be- 
fell those crossing the river by boats, determined to 
rouse the Avignonese to the necessity of building a 
bridge. For a long time he labored in vain, even 
being beaten by the authorities for his persistent and 
annoying talk, but in the end he succeeded, interest 
was awakened, the bridge was built, and he was made 
a saint in recognition of his merits and his efforts. 

Our companion, Madame de K , for by this 

12 [ 177 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

time she had given us her card, had not yet seen the 
palace or the promenade, so we returned to the citj, 
where Madame volunteered to show her the sights 
while Monsieur gave the car a little overhauling. It 
was after closing hour for the palace, so they ex- 
amined the old mint, went for a moment into the 
dimness of the empty cathedral and then up the shal- 
low flights of stairs to the park. Once more the sun 
was setting, its rays making a silvery lace work of 
the threading branches of the noble river below. 
The clouds were a glory of gold and rose, and far to 
the east the snowy Mont Ventoux looked like some 
hovering, stainless spirit. The pretty park, with its 
clustering trees, its tiny lakes, and floating swans 
they hardly saw, so rapt were they in watching that 
splendid sunset. !N^ot till the last fleck of pink had 
faded from the sky and the last gleam gone from the 
river did they turn away, and a violet haze was rising 
over the mountains and the short twilight falling, 
when at last they descended to the city. 

Madame de K — ■ — took dinner with us, and spent 
the evening until it was time for her to go to the 
train — for she was to take the night express to 
Paris. We accompanied her to the station and saw 
her off with real regret. She had very carefully re- 
frained from hinting at it, but we felt that she was 

[178] 



THE RHONE AND AVIGNON 

not just like every one else, and a friend has since told 
us of the ancient and noble Breton family from 
which she came, and of the no less honored family to 
which, by marriage, she belongs. 

It was late when we went to bed that night, tired 
with the constant wind, and long walk, but we had 
had a happy, profitable day and were content. 



[179] 



CHAPTER XV 

THE PONT Dir GARD, N^MES, AND AELES 

WE left Avignon the next morning in good 
season, threaded our way around the walls 
and acro^ the bridge to Yilleneuve les Avignon, 
stopped for one last look at the palace of the Popes, 
the broken bridge, and the old city sleeping beside 
the turbid Rhone, and then, taking the direction in- 
dicated by a Touring Club of Erance sign, started 
at thirty miles an hour, in the teeth of the mistral, 
for the Pont du Gard. The wind actually seemed 
to slap our faces and beat in our ears with such force 
as to make conversation impossible, except by shout- 
ing. One would not care to miss the mistral, but 
having experienced it once is enough, and we were 
weary of it. We have heard of women on the plains 
of western Kansas going insane through weariness 
and the nervous strain of the never-ceasing wind. 
We have experienced that wind ourselves for days, 
but any wind that we have ever felt there, was as a 
spring zephyr to this unabating, irresistible torrent 
of air which we breasted hour after hour. 

[180] 



THE PONT DU GARD 

The ride to the Pont du Gard was through a dry, 
desolate country, the same as the road down the 
Rhone, the only life being that of the olive trees — 
old, gray, and gnarled, which seemed only to ac- 
centuate the barrenness of the landscape. It was still 
early when we reached Hemoulins and followed the 
signs pointing the way to the bridge. Through its 
narrow streets, we wound, and then a sharp turn 
and " one of the most imposing monuments of the 
Romans which remains to us '^ was revealed. 

It was too early for other travellers to have ar- 
rived, and we took a selfish delight in being able to 
revel alone in its beauty. For the time being it was 
ours to admire, to wonder over, to investigate. 
While called a bridge, it was, in fact, originally an 
aqueduct, built by Agrippa in 19 B. C, to convey to 
!N'imes the water of two streams, which have their 
sources in the neighborhood of Uzes, twenty-five miles 
away. It is eight hundred and eighty-eight feet long 
and one hundred and sixty feet high and rises in 
three tiers of arches, the larger six in number in the 
valley, the next row of eleven on a level with the river 
banks and the third of thirty-five carrying the aque- 
duct even with the hills. 

It is constructed of cut stones, so perfectly set 
and fitted that no cement was needed or used, ex- 

[181] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

cept in making tlie water-tight conductor along tlie 
top. At the right end, stairs have been built and 
we ascended to the very summit, where the view is 
fine and one can walk the entire distance through 
the canal, still covered in part by the original stone. 
" All this, to carry the water of a couple of springs 
to a little provincial city." It is said that when 
hundreds of years after it was built the Yandals de- 
stroyed most of the other Eoman constructions in 
this region, they spared this bridge from a feeling 
of awe at its majesty and grandeur. 

Wishing a picture, we arranged that Madame 
should remain on the bridge and by standing erect 
give some means of comparison by which the immense 
size of the structure could be estimated, Monsieur 
going below to snap it; but when he reached the 
ground and looked up, he realized the folly of the 
plan, as did she the moment that she stood erect, 
so dangerous was her position, leaning far over 
against the powerful pressure of the wind. 

The picture taken, we lingered about on the 
ground marvelling at this great proof of Eome's 
might, until a number of bicyclists arrived and then 
we retraced the road to the point at which it turns off 
toward Nimes. This twenty-five miles of white 

[182] 



THE PONT DU GARD 

macadam was so smooth that its hard surface felt 
soft and almost yielding as we rolled over it. 

The temptation was too great to resist and we let 
the car increase its speed until we seemed to be fly- 
ing, when suddenly the singing of a siren behind 
notified us to give way and we pulled out to the right 
without lessening our speed and were passed by an 
immense car as if we had been standing still. It 
was going sixty miles an hour at least, and was out 
of sight in a moment. Its furious pace almost 
frightened us, and we reduced our speed, for it 
seemed foolish to increase it ever so little beyond the 
safety point when there was so much to see, so much 
to live for, and so much to enjoy. 

Arrived at E'lmes, we stopped at the octroi station 
and inquired the way to the amphitheatre. Directly 
opposite it was the Hotel of the White Horse, and 
putting the auto in its garage, we started out to see 
as much as possible before noon. The arena was so 
near that we left it for the last and went on to the 
beautiful little Maison Carree, which Baedeker 
double-stars and calls " one of the finest and best pre- 
served Roman temples anywhere extant. '^ 

It is located in the heart of the city, as it was no 
doubt, in the centre of the Roman forum, and is so 

[ 183 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

well preserved that it is hard to believe it other than 
a modern municipal building. It is eighty-two feet 
long, by forty feet wide and forty high, with thirty 
exquisite Corinthian columns of beautiful workman- 
ship, six of which uphold a portico on the front. 
Fifteen steps lead up to the door. Within is a mu- 
seum consisting largely of Roman statuary and 
articles found in or about l^imes. These things are 
very interesting, and some of the delicate glass orna- 
ments are so wonderful in coloring as to make Tif- 
fany's best seem cheap and tawdry. 

!N^ot far from here is the Jardin de la Eontaine, 
a park composed mostly of water effects. The 
luncheon at the White Horse was good and well 
served by waiters who wore a uniform or livery, in- 
stead of the usual dress suit, an innovation which we 
trust will be adopted more generally ; the ever present 
waiter, arrayed at all hours of the day and night in 
worn dress clothes and universally shabby shoes, be- 
comes as trying to the nerves as the mistral, when ex- 
perienced daily for two or three months. 

We visited the amphitheatre in the afternoon and 
found it in a much better state of preservation than 
the Colosseum at Home, though by no means so large. 
This one has been restored and kept in repair and 
is still in use for bull fights, and in the brilliant 

[184] 



THE PONT DU GARD 

sunshine was a very imposing spectacle. Like the 
Pont du Gard, it is constructed without the use of 
cement or mortar. It was arranged to seat twenty- 
four thousand people and had one hundred and 
twenty-four exits. This arena was never used for 
wild beast fights — only for gladiatorial contests, or, 
by being flooded was turned occasionally into a place 
for naval battles. While we were there a vaudeville 
troupe was playing and a ramshackle stage with glit- 
tering trimmings prevented the imagination from go- 
ing beyond buffoonery. We did not linger long. 
IsTimes was a disappointment. We had expected to be 
keenly interested there, but at the end of half a day 
were satisfied, and being untrammelled by time-tables, 
had only to turn the crank and start again for the un- 
known, the land of dreams. 

From !N'imes to Beaucaire the road was fine, and 
the country no different from what it had been earlier 
in the day. It was but a short drive and the town 
seemed deadly dull when we stopped in the open 
space before the hill or rather great bluff on which 
the fragments of its castle stood, and left the machine 
while we mounted the worn stairs to its park, unkept 
and dry as dust. 

A group of boys playing hide and seek discovered 
us and, undaunted, joined us, following with keen 

[185] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

interest wherever we went, even peering into the dim 
old tower in which a tottering custodian, with breath- 
less enthusiasm, unlocked a cupboard and disclosed to 
us a skull, a perfectly good skull so far as we could see, 
which had been discovered in the ruins, and which 
was all the fortress had to offer except a view of the 
Rhone, the distant hills, and Tarascon on the other 
side of the river. We spent some time enjoying 
the view in spite of the crowding, pushing boys, who 
were underfoot and very fearful of failing to see that 
which the foreigners found so interesting. Presently 
returning to the car. Monsieur noticed what he 
thought was a small stone imbedded in a rear tire and 
in trying to get it out punctured the inner tube, with 
the result that can be imagined. The sun was broil- 
ing hot,, the boys were everywhere and absolutely 
starving for information as to the tools that we laid 
down, and the purposes for which we took them up 
again, and they crowded about so closely as to shut 
off all air and actually to handicap the work. In this 
painful situation we suddenly discovered the air bot- 
tle to be empty ; Monsieur stripped for action, and the 
pump was manned. This brought up for discussion 
the engine pump that should have been bought before 
leaving home and, had not the only English-speaking 
person in the village arrived to discuss with Madame 

[ 186 ] 



THE PONT DU GARD 

our route and our country and to draw the attention 
of the boys from the pumping to a more interesting 
matter, something might have happened to justify 
our incarceration in the prison, once the castle of 
King Rene, across the Rhone. 

Beaucaire was at one time the seat of a great 
national fair similar to that of Mjni-ITovgorod, but 
it has degenerated now into a purely local matter, 
a meeting place for the rustics who are amused by 
merry-go-rounds and the performances of mounte- 
banks. 

The tire repair accomplished, we crossed a long 
suspension bridge to Tarascon, and stopped on the 
left bank of the Rhone to view the castle. It is a 
sturdy fortification, and as a whole appears uninter- 
esting, except for the fact that it was built by King 
Rene the Good ; later we saw in Angers the statue of 
this poet, painter of miniatures, and leader in and 
patron of the Courts of Love. Here in this castle he 
held his revels. In those days as in these, an artistic 
temperament was not a kingly attribute and he lived 
to see his possessions filched from him, as he frittered 
his time away, in the things he loved. 

Tarascon is better known as the scene of two of 
Daudet's stories — " Les Adventures Prodigeuses de 
Tartarin " and " Les Contes du Lundi " ; it is hardly 

[187] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

worth the trouble of a visit by rail, but as an incident 
in the day's run was well worth the time we gave it. 
As special permission was required to view the in- 
terior of the castle, we satisfied our curiosity by ex- 
amining the outside and taking a picture of it, and 
were shortly on our way, through the shady streets, 
over a road which continued to be unusually fine, to 
Aries. 

When we stopped to make our declaration at the 
octroi, we inquired for directions as to the location of 
the hotels. The two hostelries of this city are perhaps 
as well known as any in Europe ; every one who goes 
there speaks of them. They are on the ancient forum 
at right angles to each other, with a narrow alley 
between, and into one of them is built a fragment of 
a Gallo-Eoman portico. They are remarkable for 
being equally bad and no one who has stopped at 
either ever left town without wishing that he had 
tried the other instead. We went to the Hotel du 
Forum and found its second and third floors torn up 
during the installation of steam heat and other im- 
provements, and while we spent the night there fairly 
comfortably we agreed to see what we could of Aries 
in as short a time as possible, and run out to St. 
Eemy, where we had heard of a really good hotel, in 
which to spend the next night. 

[188] 



THE PONT DU GARD 

On our table at dinner that evening was a bill ad- 
vertising a bull fight to the death, in which six 
Spanish bulls and twenty horses were to be used and 
in the morning the town was crowded with people 
attracted there bj the event, a fact which added to 
our desire to get away. 

We visited the Cathedral of St. Trophimus in the 
square, with an elaborately ornamented front, also 
the scanty remains of a Roman theatre, and then re- 
turned to get the car, and to settle the bill. 

We found a bov of not more than twelve, well 
dressed and evidently of the better class, standing by 
the auto and admiring it. Gracefully he raised his 
hat at our approach and fell into conversation with 
Madame. " Yes, surely I am going to the bull fight. 
Six bulls will be killed." "Horses?" "'^o 
doubt." " Men ? " " Perhaps." " Do you not pity 
them ? " " Yes, but they are only animals. The 
men are brave and clever; it would be sad, indeed, 
should one of them be forced to die." Madame, 
translating, was grieved at the strong English in 
which, though our little gentleman did not under- 
stand. Monsieur ventured his opinion, that that was 
the only thing which could tempt him to see such a 
game. Presently the boy produced a cigarette case, 
and with a gallant wave of his hand, presented it to 

[189] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

Monsieur, took one himself, lighted it, inhaled deeply 
and comfortably, and offered to show us the sights, a 
proposal which we accepted and soon with our guide 
standing on the foot board, clamoring shrilly at the 
crowd, we drove at a walk to the amphitheatre. 

Here all was excitement, the same crowd, the same 
interest that one sees about the doors of a circus 
hours before its opening at home. We were admitted 
by the custodian, on satisfying him that we were about 
to leave the city and were there with no intention of 
getting a line on the bulls and thereby gaining an ad- 
vantage in the betting of the afternoon. 

The arena is larger than that of Nimes, but not so 
well preserved. Men were sweeping and sprinkling 
it; numbered opera seats covered the old stone ones, 
a band stand was receiving its finishing touches, and 
everything was being prepared for the celebration, 
while in one corner beneath an awning a dozen or 
more tired, bony horses calmly nibbled their hay, 
little knowing the awful suffering which a few hours 
would bring to them. 

These bull fights are a blot on France. They are 
all one-sided and unfair — so free from even a sport- 
ing chance that an Indian would be ashamed to en- 
gage in one, while the most brutalized white man 
ought to blush to admit that, even through curiosity, 

[190] 



THE PONT DU GARD 

he had been a party to such an exhibition. The half- 
wild bulls, starved and mad for water, are permitted 
to drink their fill, then are driven to their death, 
handicapped by their water-logged condition. Toil- 
worn horses, too poor to grace a junk-dealer's cart, 
are ridden until almost exhausted, and then gored by 
the frantic bulls, while trained athletes, whose only 
business this is, and who take not half the chances of 
a prize fighter, are the butchers and are applauded by 
delighted crowds. 

It sickened us — we could not stay. Under the 
bright rays of a summer sun one can sit in the Colos- 
seum at Rome and picture the ancient holidays, hor- 
rible though they were, and enjoy the gratifying 
sense of being of a world that moves — of a wider, 
bigger world, with an increased civilization, but to 
look into the arena at Aries and picture that howling 
mob, to hear this mere child prattle of the slaughter, 
and we there in a motor car! The world of Aries 
has not moved; it is as crude, as heartless, as un- 
civilized in all but outward forms, as it was nineteen 
hundred years ago, and we cannot doubt, would as 
greedily look on, as cowardly turn the thumbs earth- 
ward while under the lust for blood, as did ever 
Roman soldier there, in the days that now are 
history. 

[ 191 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

Hurrying away, filled with disgust at tlie terrible 
inhumanity of the thing, we worked out through the 
crowds to the bank of the Hhone and the Aliscamps, 
the Avenue of the Dead, which is older than the 
arena. ISTo crowd was there, and we entered the shad- 
ows of the cypresses, glad to be away from the fever 
of the living Aries. 

The Aliscamps is a mere memory now, and there is 
little of beauty to be seen. It has been gradually 
stripped of its ancient sarcophagi, every museum in 
Europe having benefited by the necessities of Aries. 
This place was selected as a burying ground because 
it was higher and drier than the surrounding country, 
and in the Middle Ages it was a common thing for 
those living far up the Rhone Valley to put in boats 
their dead, with a coin in their lips to pay for burial 
and cast the craft adrift to be borne upon the river 
to the Aliscamps. 

After seeing this famous place, we were ready to 
leave Aries, which seemed to us uninteresting, de- 
generate, a place of crooked, roughly paved streets, 
poor hotels, and cruel little men. The women were 
noticeably handsome and of a different type than else- 
where in France — tall, with fine carriage, and clas- 
sic faces, testifying to their Greek ancestry. 

[192] 



THE PONT DU GARD 

So we turned toward Les Baux, dropping our boy 
friend near the arena, where his hopes for our good 
luck and pleasant afternoon were so sincere that we 
could only wish the like for him, on what he deemed, 
so plainly, a rarely delightful occasion. 



13 



[193] 



CHAPTEK XYI 

LES BAUX^ ST. BEMY^ THE CKAU AI^D THE CAMAEGUE 

IT was still early, and we rolled out first to the 
ruins of the Benedictine Abbey of Montmajeur. 
This commanding old edifice was begun in the sixth 
century, as its name indicates, on the highest point 
thereabouts, but was rebuilt later, and flourished 
until the French Eevolution destroyed it. It has a 
large crypt and cloisters, but its most striking fea- 
ture is the great machicolated tower eighty-five feet 
high, from whose top, watch could be kept over the 
flat country to the sea. It was a rich and stately 
place, and its ruins to-day speak in no hesitating 
voice of the past of its order, which at one time 
boasted thirty-seven thousand monasteries, and these 
mostly in Erance; an old book, the Monasticon Gal- 
licarum, written in 1645, gives plates of one hundred 
and sixty-eight of the most famous. 

But how are the mighty fallen ! i^ow a gentle old 
Arlesienne conducts about the ruins wanderers from 
a country which was undreamed of, when the abbey 
was proudly entertaining good St. Francis. Over- 

[ 194 ] 



LES BAUX, ST. REMY 

head in the old tower, birds nest in the harmless 
machicolations which more than once may have 
poured down their deadly rain of boiling lead and 
oil; in the once sumptnous refectory, where in the 
olden days powerful nobles met in feast and conclave, 
now the sheep huddle quietly, and their soft breath- 
ing is the only sound that breaks the silence. 

Leaving the ancient abbey, its empty window 
arches, framing bits of deep blue sky behind us as we 
turned to catch a parting impression, we went by the 
little Chapel of the Holy Cross, which did not in- 
terest us, some way, though no doubt it should have 
done so, for it is one of the carefully guarded national 
historical monuments, and must have merit in some 
noteworthy degree, and passed serenely on to what is 
surely one of the most curious places in the world, 
the old cliff town of Les Baux. 

This ruined city is situated on a sharp spur of 
the Alpines, an abrupt ridge of rock, twenty miles 
long and in places a thousand feet in height, which 
runs past the north side of the stony plain of the 
Crau. On this promontory the ruins lie, or rather 
of the promontory they form a part, for where the 
rock itself makes the walls of the buildings and where 
man's work, it is, at a little distance, impossible to tell. 
In the days of its pride, Les Baux was a place of im- 

[195] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

portance, not so much by reason of its size, for it 
probably never numbered more tban four thousand 
souls, but because of the warlike prowess of its 
barons, and the beauty and advantageous matrimonial 
alliances of its ladies. Among the titles of its rulers 
were Counts of Cephalonia and l^eophantis, Kings 
of Aries and Vienne, Princes of Achia, Seneschals of 
Piedmont, Grand Justiciaries of the Kingdom of 
Naples, Princes of Orange, Viscounts of Marseilles, 
Counts of Provence, and, even, for ^ve years, Em- 
perors of Constantinople. 

The family seems to have risen to fame under 
Pons des Baux, who died in 970, and to have sunk 
from sight again in the fifteenth century. The place 
finally fell to the House of Monaco, who held it till 
1789, though after its destruction in 1632, by 
Cardinal Richelieu, it was of little actual worth. 
Some writers have spoken of Les Baux as a mediaeval 
Pompeii, but it is by no means so large or so well 
preserved. There are ruinous churches and houses, 
some having been the homes of powerful nobles; 
there are bits of window arches, fireplaces, inscrip- 
tions, a columbarium or place for cinerary urns, parts 
of castle walls, and many rocky streets and sagging 
stone doorways, but almost nothing that can be identi- 
fied and definitely investigated. Only two things are 

[ 196 ] 



LES BAUX, ST. REMY 

still kept in repair and still used, a dim little church 
and the reservoir, which is one whole slope of the 
plateau, smoothly paved, and so arranged as to catch 
the rains and direct them into underground cisterns, 
where it is to he hoped that the water in some way 
purifies itself. 

The excellent guide who showed us ahout the town, 
for two francs each, was a native of the place, and 
said that its population is now not more than two 
hundred in all, and that it is constantly growing 
less, as the girls go away to service, marry, and live 
in the new homes they have found. We saw a few 
old men tottering ahout with the help of canes, 
hut it was evident that not many more years would 
he needed for the extinction of the once proud 
city. 

The place has, without douht, heen occupied at 
times ever since the Stone Age. In 102 B. C. the 
people of Aries took refuge here from the ravages 
of the Ambrons and Teutons, and again in 480 they 
fled here to escape the Visigoths. In the Middle 
Ages it was a great rendezvous of the Troubadours, 
and here were held the contests of minstrelsy, and 
the Courts of Love, which extended the fame of the 
beauteous dames of Les Baux and helped to preserve 
the purity of the old Langue d'Oc. 

[197] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

Our guide spoke feelingly of the poet, Frederic 
Mistral, who was born near here in 1830, and who 
did so much to revive the old Provengal tongue. He 
even sang for us some of Mistral's verses, and his 
soft voice murmuring the once living, but now almost 
forgotten language, in the deserted city, helped us to 
realize that the past of both had been important 
though now they are almost forgotten. He pointed 
out to us a weird view of rocks and cliffs which Mis- 
tral believed suggested to Dante the architecture of 
his Hell, and also a bit of carving in the vaulting of 
one of the churches which contained the arms of the 
Lords of Baux, on which figured a star, emblematic of 
the descent which they claimed from Balthazar, one 
of the three Wise Men who came from the East to 
Bethlehem at the time of Christ's birth. 

Les Baux is fascinating, and so is the wide view 
from its old castle, which raises here and there a 
fragmentary wall or gateway above the sheer fall of 
the cliff. In spite of the wind which made the ascent 
difficult, we crouched in the shelter of the rock and 
gazed and gazed out over the strange country, which 
in the clear atmosphere was visible for miles. To 
north and east and west rise range after range of 
hills, while to the south lies the great rock-strewn 
plain of the Crau, with occasionally the gleam of a 

[198] 



i 



LES BAUX, ST. REMY 

salty pool like a jewel on its breast. ^tsTearer at hand 
thousands and thousands of olive trees rear their graj 
heads in a brave struggle with the ashy soil and the 
buffeting wind. These trees, which bear olives small 
but very nutritious and rich in oil, form almost the 
sole source of livelihood of the dwellers in this region. 
And everywhere through the weird chaos of the rocks 
and barren soil, the white roads unrolled themselves 
like ribbons shaken out by a mighty hand. 

At last, the guide too, silent, we turned and went 
down to the garage near the hotel where we had 
lunched on our arrival, turned the crank of the car 
and descended the steep winding approach, and fol- 
lowing the road which had been pointed out to us, 
ran on to St. Eemv about seven miles to the north. 
A little before reaching there we came to two re- 
markably preserved Roman remains, from the City 
of Glanum Livii, destroyed by the Visigoths in 480 ; 
a triumphal arch and a monument with Corinthian 
pillars and sculptured battle scenes. 

They are very fine, but the panting auto engines 
and the picnicking progeny of the wealthy French- 
men, who were reclining in the shade nearby, seemed 
to spoil the harmony of the place, and we cut our 
stay short. 

At St. Remy in the Hotel de Provence we were 

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ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

given the rooms in which the landlady benignly as- 
sured us Thomas A. Janvier had stayed during we 
do not remember how many years. If so, no doubt, 
that polished writer had the best of reasons for do- 
ing it, but we cannot imagine what cause, short of 
a penal sentence, could hold any one for more than a 
day in St. Eemy. 

It is the dullest of French towns, with nothing 
but a " mixed metaphor church," some wide, ill-kept 
streets, overarched by magnificent trees and six thou- 
sand more than ordinarily uninteresting people. 
Still, it was quiet and remote from Aries with its 
bloodthirsty hordes, so we were well content to re- 
main for the night. 

We returned to Aries the next morning, stopped 
for our mail, and for information at the Syndicat 
d'Initiative as to the route, and then pressed on 
about twenty-four miles to the little village of Les 
Saintes Maries. 

To get to this queer, dead little town, one has to 
ride through an even more dead region called the 
Camargue. The Camargue and its sister region, 
the Crau, deserve a few words of explanation. They 
are both plains, left between the Ehone and the Dur- 
ance, and the sea, and their origin goes back into 
geologic periods. The Crau is practically a waste, 

[200] 



LES BAUX, ST. REMY 

covered with stones, ranging from pebbles to those 
the size of a man's head. 

The Camargue, while of the same foundation, 
has gradually overlaid its stones with alluvial do- 
posit from the river, until now it has a sparse cover- 
ing of coarse marsh grasses. The slow receding of 
the sea has left in both plenteous deposits of salt, 
sometimes in the water of little pools, again, where 
the water has evaporated, in the almost tropic glare 
of the sun, in dirty white sediment scattered amongst 
the scanty grass. At certain seasons of the year 
herds of wild cattle and horses, and flocks of flamin- 
gos and ibis range over these regions. 

From the days of Strabo these peculiar plains 
have been a subject of great interest to observers. 
Arthur Young in 1789 spoke of the Crau as being 
" one of the most singular districts in France, for 
its soil, or rather want of soil, being apparently a 
region of sea flints." The canal built by Adam de 
Craponne in the sixteenth century began the great 
work of reclaiming them, which has since been 
actively carried on and now the desert of the Crau is 
becoming capable, in many places, of raising good 
crops, its mulberry and olive trees bringing in an- 
nually considerable sums. 

The Camargue, in ancient times, was known as 

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ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

" the granary of tlie Roman Army," — so fertile was 
it from the frequent overflow of the Rhone, which 
with its many branches, enriched it, exactly as the 
!N"ile does its delta, but in the time of Louis XIY 
these streams were diked in and through the mis- 
taken policy then inaugurated, the fertile land has 
been reduced to a sterile, salty waste. Of recent 
years, however, great efforts have been made to bring 
the land once more into bearing, but though much 
has been accomplished, much more remains to be 
done. Grapes of a poor variety are raised, but in 
the main it is a land of wind-swept desolation, given 
over to the wiry marsh grass and the mirage. 

For a long time we rode across it, glad of the oc- 
casional protection of solid lines of cypress trees, our 
heads bowed before the wind and feeling ourselves 
far indeed from fertile Illinois. And then, sud- 
denly, we saw, faint in the distance, the stem, yet 
beautiful, old fortified church of Les Saintes Maries. 

This is, of a truth, the very " jumping-off place," 
and the whole wretched village is a monstrous 
growth, which seems the rightful flower of so strange 
a country. The whole aspect of the town and sur- 
rounding region is more like that of Morocco than 
Prance. 

The village has perhaps five hundred inhabitants, 

[ 202 ] 



LES BAUX, ST. REMY 

but ihej seem transient and trifling, and the only 
things that are real are the sun, the wind, the sand, 
the sea, and the church, which lies silently looking 
out over the water, more like a gray couchant beast 
than a house of Christian worship. Here, after the 
tragedy at Jerusalem, came Mary of Bethany, Mary 
the mother of James, and Mary Magdalen, with 
Sara, their black servant, landing from a boat not pro- 
pelled by oars or sails. The present church, dating 
from 1449, is on the site of one of which mention 
is made before the year one thousand. 

Every year on the twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth 
of May a great pilgrimage is held here to which 
the gypsies from all over Europe to the number of 
fifteen thousand come to worship at the burial-place 
of Sara, their patron saint. We ordered luncheon at 
the hotel near the beach, and while it was being made 
ready, strolled about and wondered at the blueness 
of the sky and that most beautiful of seas, the Medi- 
terranean, and then bending to the wind went back 
to see the church. Outside it was fascinating; in- 
side, dark and odorous, but in spite of its bareness 
we could realize something of the reverent awe 
which must fill the hearts of the gypsies who pack 
it at pilgrimage time, and who bow themselves 
in adoration before the simpering, tinsel- jewelled 

[203] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

Madonna, the poorlj painted picture of the angel- 
driven craft, and the sepulchred bones of the Sainte. 
It must all mean a great deal to them, for on foot, 
and often poor and sick and old, thej come like 
homing birds, Italian zingaris, German zigeuner, 
Spanish gitanos, and English romanies, to this oldest 
Christian spot in France. When finally we started 
on we were pointing toward Aigues Mortes, thirty 
kilometres farther west, another town almost lost and 
forgotten in the wilderness of the Camargue. 

We were to cross the Little Rhone at Silvereal, but 
about a hundred yards before we reached it were 
faced by a board bearing the staggering news that the 
bridge was undergoing repairs and was impassable. 
It seemed an appalling undertaking to retrace our 
way, in the teeth of the mistral, back to the main 
road from which we had branched off miles before, 
and we resolved to ask the workmen at the bridge if 
they could not suggest some other way out of the 
difficulty. They told us of a ferry farther down the 
river which they spoke of as " le bac a Sauvage," and 
advised us to go to that, rather than return on our 
route. 

Their directions as to the way to get to Sauvage 
were far from clear, and though we started on, it 
was with many misgivings. Almost at once we 

[204] 



LES BAUX, ST. REMY 

left the highroad and found ourselves wandering 
over narrow tracks that twisted now north, now 
south and seemed to lead no whither and no where. 
Our course was much more like the zigzagging of 
a dog following a cold trail than like that of mo- 
torists whose afternoon was well along and who 
had yet a long run to make before thej could find 
food and shelter, for we had decided not to stop short 
of Montpellier, being unwilling to spend the night in 
a town of so ominous and unsavory a cognomen as 
Dead Waters. By and by our road brought us to a 
thatched cabin, through whose wide-open door we saw 
people sitting at table. It seemed an intrusion to 
bother them for directions, but the prospect was so 
uncertain for ever getting anywhere, that we made 
bold to do it and met with the unfailing courtesy that 
characterizes the French peasants, in garden-like 
!N'ormandy, and in these remote waste places, as well 
as all the way between them. 

Somewhat reassured, we went on again, over ever 
narrower paths, where the gray-green grass and the 
glitter of the salt seemed more and more to be claim- 
ing the region for their own and to be more and 
more anxious to blot out all traces of man's work 
and presence there. We followed the trail, till sud- 
denly it made a curve to the right and brought us to 

[205] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

a halt in a large, busj barnyard. Where were grown 
the crops justifying so sizable an establishment we 
could not see, but there were numbers of people so 
diligently engaged in different sorts of work, that 
most of them did not even look up to wonder at us, 
though we had dropped among them as unexpectedly 
as if from the clouds. 

Again we received directions, now so positively 
given that we began to feel that we were " getting 
warmer," and twenty minutes more of twists and 
turns brought us out on the edge of the river. The 
ferry was on the other side, just about to come back, 
but a load was ready on our side to cross and we had 
to wait our turn. It seemed a good time to take a 
picture, so Madame made ready to snap it just aa 
Monsieur should be driving on the boat, but in her 
excitement she was a second too quick and we have 
as a result an excellent picture of the tranquil riv^er, 
the long, low ferry, and — the left front wheel of 
the auto. 

Once on the other side we hurried along till we 
had almost reached the highway, only to realize that 
we were so confused by the winding road that we 
could not tell whether to go to right or left. A con- 
venient door framing several people offered timely 
help, and we stopped to ask ; a young woman at once 

[ 206 ] 



LES BAUX, ST. REMY 

spoke up, and gesturing vigorously said, " You must 
turn in this way, to the right.'' We had felt it to 
be to the left, and her unconscious gestures were 
all that way. " Do you mean to the right ? " " Yes, 
yes, to the right," though still pointing to the left. 
The others all seemed to agree with her; so, much 
puzzled, we went on, and at the turnpike disregarded 
our own instincts and her pointing finger and turned 
in accordance with her reiterated '' a droit, a droit, ^' 
only to discover, in a mile or so, that we had to turn 
around and retrace our way and follow the road to 
the left, with but one deviation till we came to the 
city. 

We were never able to explain it. Her serious 
face and her perfectly evident kindness and desire to 
help us, precluded all idea of hoax and we were at a 
loss to understand the peculiar occurrence; but later 
on, in fact, until we reached the Loire country, we 
met a similar state of things fully half of the times 
that we asked for information of the roads. 
Whether the people do not know their left hands from 
their right, we never could make out, but men, women, 
and children were all unreliable as to directions, 
though universally good at estimates of distance, 
and without exception anxious to do all they could 
for us. 

[207] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

The town of Aigues Mortes, which we reached a 
few minutes thereafter, derives its sole interest from 
the fact that St. Louis founded it for a starting point 
for his great crusades in 1248 and 12Y0. It has been 
said that he sailed from here, and that the sea has 
since receded, but that such is not literally the case is 
proved by the existence of an old lease dating from 
the year 1300 and referring to certain meadows near 
the coast between the sea and the town. Then, as 
now, a canal nine kilometres long connected the city 
with the open water, and the old quai from which the 
king embarked, July 28, 1248, and the ring to which 
his vessel was moored, may still be seen. 

The town, as we see it to-day, is really due to 
Philip the Bold, who began in 1272 to surround it 
with fortifications which are complete and more sym- 
metrical and regular than those of Carcassonne, if not 
so interesting. 

They form a rectangle six hundred yards long 
and one hundred and fifty wide, with twenty 
towers and ten gates, and are crowned with loop- 
holed battlements. One, the tower of Constance, has 
served as a lighthouse and as a prison for Protestants 
after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. An- 
other was used as a receptacle for the bodies of the 
Burgundian soldiers killed by the Eoyalist troops 

[208] 






'fi-V • -. -7. ^ 




>c:^-^ii^^'^I 



^My>^ 




•• THE SPRING, IN LOW WATER A QUIET POOL " 



[ Page 173 ] 




THE MINIATURE CASCADES OF THE NEW-BORN RIVER " 

[ Page 174 ] 



LES BAUX, ST. REMY 

in 1421, the bodies being thrown here and buried 
under piles, of salt. 

The town inside is entirely without interest, and 
even the walls, though twenty-five to thirty feet 
high and in almost their original condition, set as 
they are on the perfectly level plain, looked too much 
like a child's fortress of blocks to please us, and we 
were glad to leave them and their melancholy fever- 
ravaged inhabitants, who, as Siguier says, " seem to 
bear on their faces the reflection of the monotonous 
green marshes which surround them." 

This whole country is surely the abomination of 
desolation, but will some day blossom like the rose, 
for awakened France realizes that she has need of 
every foot of her land and the necessary labor and 
money will one day be forthcoming to redeem it all. 
Until then it is a spot to visit, to wonder at, to enjoy 
intensely for a short time, and then to shun. 

From Aigues Mortes to Montpellier is forty-one 
kilometres, and every mile is interesting, for gradu- 
ally cultivation gains upon the barrenness, until, at 
the latter city, the landscape becomes normal once 
more and we felt a relief and relaxation in being 
again in an alert, modern, and healthy city where the 
feeling of death and decay was forgotten in the cheery 
up-to-dateness of the fine streets and buildings. 
U [ 209 ] 



CHAPTER XVII 

MONTPELLIER PEBPIGl^AIT MONT LOUIS 

CAHCASSONNE 

MOIsTTPELLIER has seventj-six thousand 
people, a beautiful promenade, a celebrated 
university, a gallery of paintings second only to Lille, 
among all the provincial cities of France, an extra- 
ordinary aqueduct and the oldest botanical garden in 
the country, but there is little that is unusual or 
historically interesting, and V7e were content after an 
uneventful stroll to go to our pleasant room and a 
good dinner at the Grand Hotel, and soon thereafter 
to our beds. 

We exchanged the air bottle next morning at the 
big garage Moderne, filled with oil and gasoline, and 
started for Perpignan feeling so gay and care-free 
that we raced and beat a train, just to get rid of sur- 
plus energy. The fact that the train was long, 
heavily loaded with wine, and going uphill, did not 
detract from our pleasure in the feat — we were 
as well satisfied as if we had won in a fair contest 
and before applauding multitudes. But that was the 

[210] 



MONTPELLIER — PERPIGNAN 

only fast-driving we did that morning, for at Lunel, 
through sheer bad luck and lack of information, we 
took the northern route to Beziers via Montagnac. 
What the southern route would have been we do not 
know, of course, but it could not have been worse. 
Perhaps one hundred yards would be perfect ; then the 
next ^ve hundred would be a continuous chain of 
bumps and hollows, worn out by the heavy wine drays, 
which at this season of the year are met at every 
turn. 

At Beziers we stopped for luncheon ; there is a big 
brown stone cathedral, but nothing else of interest, 
and we went on again, over roads at first bad but 
gradually improving, till beyond Narbonne they were 
again the usual works of art, which, even before the 
French Eevolution, beguiled that solemn English 
farmer, Arthur Young, into exclaiming, " The roads 
here are stupendous. Three leagues and a half 
from Sejean to Narbonne cost seventy-eight thousand 
seven hundred and fifty pounds. These ways are 
superb even to a folly. We have not an idea of 
what such a road is in England ! " 

Beyond l^arbonne we stopped to take a picture 
of a wine cask team which we had just passed. We 
got out and waited till the man drove up, then asked 
him if he would stop a moment for us to photograph 

[211] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

his horses, which he seemed delighted to do. They 
were hug© — two black and one white, with great, 
pointed, swaying collars towering above them. 
Their load consisted of a low skeleton of a cart that 
held six enormous casks of wine. When the picture 
was taken, we gave the man a cigarette, being 
ashamed to offer money to such a fine, self-reliant 
looking fellow, and he, much gratified, offered us a 
drink from one of several bottles of wine which he 
carried for convenience, in a pail of water hanging 
from the cart. Madame did not accept, but Mon- 
sieur did, and pronounced it much better than that 
ordinarily served in the hotels. 

As we approached E^arbonne we had a fine race 
with a French auto. They were ahead and beckoned 
and shouted at us, and for once we threw discre- 
tion to the winds and overhauled them, though it 
took forty miles an hour to do it. Then, having 
shown them what we could do, we slowed down and 
cheered them out of sight. This proved to be our 
day for races, for just as we left l^arbonne a tiny 
bit of an auto about like a baby carriage, stood by 
the curb-stone and we saw two men seize it and run, 
pushing it, till it had a good start ; then one jumped in 
and took the wheel while the other still pushed until 
it was well under way, then he too made a flying leap, 

[312] 



MONTPELLIER — PERPIGNAN 

got in, and took the horn and with a noise like a loco- 
motive in a tunnel, off thej tore, honking for ns to 
clear the track. It was too much for our sporting 
blood and our sense of the ridiculous, so we refused 
to be passed. The other car was evidently a tester 
and whoever bought it has had his money's worth of 
fun, for certainly it could go ! Though so tiny, it was 
a four-cylinder, and it stuck to us uphill and down 
till at La I^ouvelle we took the wrong turn and they 
swept past us cheering like madmen. We turned as 
quickly as we could, but they were, of course, well 
ahead when we got back into the main road again and 
started in pursuit. They did their best, but slowly 
we drew up to them and then with a howl of triumph 
crept ahead and in a mile or two lost them entirely, 
when they turned off to complete the circle back to 
Narbonne. 

It was not a very dignified day, but a happy one, 
and we reached Perpignan and the Grand Hotel 
more than usually covered with dust but smiling. 
The loss of dignity was only temporary, we trust, 
but that good day would have been gone forever 
if we had not seized its pleasures when they 
came, and we are glad that we knew it and acted 
accordingly. 

Perpignan is about half Spanish in manner, dress, 

[ 213 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

speech and atmosphere. Many of the people can 
speak three languages, the third, the Catalan, being a 
real language and not, as is sometimes supposed, a 
dialect easy enough to understand, if one will only 
pay attention. 

The French hereabouts is very odd, of a brilliant 
crackling quality hard to describe, but quite notice- 
able, and, while not over-correct, still having a charm 
of its own. For instance, une helle route, in 
Languedoc and along the eastern slopes of the Pyr- 
enees, becomes una hellarroutta and, either every- 
thing is spoken at more than the usual lightning 
speed of French conversation, or the force of the 
consonants makes it sound so. 

The Grand was more like an American hotel than 
any that we had found in all our trip. The pro- 
prietor's son, a pleasant young fellow, spent a good 
deal of time with us, even accompanying us in the 
auto to Canet, a mild little bathing resort, about eight 
miles from town. 

He explained to us the French obligatory military 
system more fully than had before been done, and 
we were greatly interested. It seems that until two 
years ago it was a comparatively easy matter to shirk 
one's term, but now an examination is made by three 
doctors and another by the prefect, and even the lame, 

[214] 




" A LONG LINE OF RUINED WALL STRETCHING ABOUT AN EMPTY 

COURT " 

[ Page 176 ] 




WE ARRANGED THAT MADAAIE WOULD REaiAIN ON THE BRIDGE " 

[ Page 182 ] 



MONTPELLIER — PERPIGNAN 

the one-armed, and those who have lost an eye are 
entered and given clerical positions. 

The pay of the common soldier is only one cent a 
day and his food and uniform, which of course means 
that in all cases, save those of direst need, the recruit 
must be furnished money from home, often a great 
hardship to the parents. 

After the two-years' service on land or four on 
sea, each man under forty-five must serve one month 
out of every two years, during which time, however, 
if he is working on a salary, his pay is continued and 
his position held for him until his return. In this 
region each soldier whose parents can prove that they 
own land is given two weeks in the vintage time 
in which to assist in gathering the crop. Of course 
it follows that the holiday is only used by the very 
poor for the purpose intended, but the two weeks are 
greatly prized. 

It is an atrocious system and clings like an octopus 
to the youth of France, seizing one hundred and sixty 
thousand conscripts annually just at the moment when 
they would be making a start in life and keeping 
them in pernicious idleness or else employed in un- 
profitable labor and releasing them after the service 
unsettled and vdth evil habits formed. 

Advancement is in general a matter of political 

[215] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

pull, and the armj, which, numbers six hundred 
and twentj-nine thousand -B.Ye hundred men, is, as 
we were told later, by an older man, rotten in conse- 
quence. The whole system seemed to us thoroughly 
bad and is abhorred by the natives, who are yet 
powerless to escape from it. 

Even if a man goes away before he is twenty-one, 
or is taken as a child by his parents, he must return 
at the appointed age, or, failing to do so, he will be 
treated as a deserter if he does come back before he is 
forty-five. 

Surely such methods cannot tend toward patriot- 
ism, especially as the army is too often looked on as 
an excellent place to put the incorrigible and those 
who are too dull to be successful anywhere else. 

We have seen more or less of the armies of France 
and Germany, and we cannot help feeling that if 
they should ever go to war again, an event which 
France fully expects, the time required for the 
Franco-Prussian struggle would be lessened by half, 
without materially affecting the outcome. 

One thing, in this connection we daily noticed and 
that was the vastly greater number of children to be 
seen in Germany than in France. The subject is an 
old and familiar one, but our intimate journeying 
through cities, villages, and country gave us excep- 

[216] 



MONTPELLIER — PERPIGNAN 

tional chances for observation, and we feel that the 
significance of the matter is vital, if, as is certainly 
possible, war should ever spring up between the two 
countries again. 

Perpignan has almost nothing to interest the visitor, 
its triple row of old walls having been torn down a 
few years ago and the whole place being in spirit, and 
to a surprising degree in- appearance, modern and or- 
dinary, save for its tangle of narrow streets, and 
a faint and intangible Spanish or Saracenic air. 
However, we saw the few sights left, the castillet, a. 
small but massive brick castle built in 1319 by San- 
cho. King of Majorca, and the old Spanish market, a 
beautifully decorated building called La Loge, and 
now used as mairie and cafe. 

The citadel above the town is a large fortress said 
to contain little of interest, but that little is well 
guarded and cannot be visited without special per- 
mit. We saw what we could of it and then returned 
to the show place of the city, the magnificent avenue 
of plane trees of which any town might well be 
proud. 

The plentiful gypsies, of whom all through these 
parts we met many on the roads, the small, dark, 
red-sashed men, and women in black with lace mantil- 
las, the water-sellers, the numbers of panniered 

[217] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

donkeys, and the flat, closely shuttered houses, all 
attest the nearness to the Spanish border, and indeed 
Perpignan is an important strategic point, as it 
guards the frontier on the Paris to Barcelona route. 

At Perpignan we were met by the tramoniana, a 
strong wind from the Pyrenees, one not so fierce, 
but also not so refreshing as the mistral, for in spite 
of its inconvenience and discomfort, the cities in the 
Rhone valley rejoice in the freshness and healthful- 
ness of that mountain blast, without which the heat 
and malaria of the flat, marshy plains would be 
intolerable. 

One afternoon and the following day sufficed to 
satisfy us in Perpignan and the second morning we 
started for Mont Louis, the old capital of the French 
Cerdagne, a once important fortress town situated at 
an elevation of ^yq thousand two hundred and eighty 
feet in the mountains. It was fortified by Vaubun 
and commands one of the approaches to Spain. Its 
climate attracts many summer visitors, but its mili- 
tary importance has vanished since the erection of a 
newer fortress higher up on a neighboring peak. 

American cars are not well adapted to mountain 
climbing, for their radiators are not large enough as 
a general thing. Still, we had no fear that ours would 
fail us, and started confidently, making all speed in 

[218] 



MONTPELLIER — PERPIGNAN 

the earlier part of our one hundred and twenty-five 
mile run, to balance the slow progress, which we knew 
must come later. 

Mountain climbing is not motoring at its best. At 
times it is hard work. But we had had considerable 
experience bj now and knew how to care for the car 
and to do all possible to insure its safety. The first 
thing was to avoid overheating, to provide at all times 
plenty of oil, and, as often as necessary, cool water, 
but not so cold as to crack the heated cylinders. We 
felt that such an accident, or, indeed, any of a thou- 
sand less serious ones, would prove very unfortunate 
in these remote places, where it might be difficult to 
get repairs, or even to make the mechanics understand 
what was needed ; the principles of the gas engine are 
alike the world over, of course, but their application 
is very different in Europe and America, and though 
the foreign repair men are generally good, we had 
seen a car at Perpignan receive treatment that made 
us resolve that nothing but necessity should tempt us 
to let ours fall into strange hands. On hard climbs, 
Europeans often run with the hood open, a sensible 
custom and one which we adopted, for everything 
that tends to keep the engine cool adds to its pulling 
power. 

The grades on the Mont Louis road were so very 

[219] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

gradual during the first tliirtj-five miles, that the car 
skimmed along and often the slowing of the engine 
was our fi.rst notice of them, though of course each 
new view revealed greater depths and strangely 
shrunken rivers, while hourly, the mountains loomed 
nearer and more awe-inspiring. But for the next 
fifteen miles the climb became rapidly harder and 
once, after a particularly hard pull, where the low 
had been quite constantly required, we stopped to 
cool, and Monsieur thoughtlessly releasing the radia- 
tor cap had it thrown from his hand by a miniature 
geyser, so that we had quite a wait before daring to 
fill from the rill that trickled down beside the road. 

But what a place it was to rest ! A white road 
clinging like a vine to the side of a rugged mountain 
in the midst of greater mountains, extending as far 
as we could see in billowing, heaving masses, snow- 
capped and glittering! Soon after this point came 
the last hard pull, and then the top, where, except 
for a priest, who divined our destination and pointed 
wildly, we should have gone by, but turning to learn 
the meaning of his gesture, we saw a large sign with 
a pointing finger, and the words " Entrance to Mont 
Louis.'^ We retraced our course and entered the old, 
old town gate, over a last stiff pull, and across hor- 
rible cobble-stones to the hotel, where luncheon was 

[ 220 ] 



MONTPELLIER — PERPIGNAN 

almost finished, but where, nevertheless, they made 
shift to give us a good meal. 

This over, we looked about the town for a while, 
but it is only interesting because of its age, and the 
generally curious air which hangs about it, and we 
were soon ready to start for Carcassonne. 

As we were preparing to go, we discovered that 
our exhaust whistle lay under the car, where it had 
dropped most conveniently when we stopped. We 
never put it on again while abroad and strange to say 
were never again troubled with overheating. Ex- 
actly what the connection is we cannot say, probably 
something in the nature of a back pressure, but at any 
rate we greatly appreciated the fact and were relieved 
from the worry that we had experienced for weeks 
on the climbs. 

From Mont Louis to Carcassonne all the way is 
down hill, and the engine was seldom in use except 
for braking purposes, but we employed it constantly 
to relieve the brakes, which grew so hot that many 
times we smelled the blistering paint. The road 
was perfect as usual, and the scenery more and 
more beautiful. Very soon we commenced to pick 
up little brooks that widened to streams and then 
were joined by others, until at last they formed the 
Aude, which we followed, through all its meander- 

[221] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

ings, until it developed waterfalls and cascades, and 
finally made a dash into the narrow darkness of the 
gorge of St. Georges. Our road still threaded the way 
beside it and the massive mountain, cut straight and 
true above us, echoed to its ripplings and to the throb- 
bing of our exhaust. At times we were almost swept 
off of the shelf-like road by the end of some log, as 
long as a ship's mast, which was being laboriously 
hauled from the mountains to be smoothed and sent 
on to the great outer world. In fact, these logs were 
so frequent that they made our progress slow. 

Through Axat and Quillan we went and did not 
stop until on a hill before us we saw " the most com- 
plete and most formidable example in Europe of the 
sixth, twelfth, and thirteenth century fortifications.'' 

There are two Carcassonnes — the Villehasse, or 
lower and modern town, and the Cite, the old city, 
enclosed in its original ramparts. These double walls 
with their fifty towers were begun by the Romans in 
the fifth century, continued by the Visigoths and later 
finished by the French kings, and each style of archi- 
tecture can still be distinguished. The whole is as 
perfect now as it was in its prime, having been re- 
stored by Yiollet le Due, who finished it in 1879, after 
twenty-nine years of almost constant labor. It has 
been called " a fly in amber " — so perfectly is it pre- 

[ 222 ] 



MOXTPELLIER — PERPIGXAX 

served and so plainly can one see exactly what it 
was. 

The next morning we went to the old fortress, and 
found it to be exceedingly interesting. The guide ex- 
plained it thoroughly and leisurely, and had us ex- 
plore every nook and cranny. He described the 
sieges and methods of withstanding them, showing 
us the clever tricks in construction by which the 
enemy could be trapped, if they ever succeeded in 
getting over the outer walls. Tor instance, if the 
gate were forced, another gate was met which had be- 
side it on either iiand an open stairway, one ap- 
parently leading up to the walls and the other down 
inside them, the invaders harassed bv the fire of the 
defenders rushed into these doorways in crowds, and 
when in the darkness the stairs suddenlv ceased, thev 
fell a distance of sixty feet to their destruction. 
There were also immense cellars always kept full of 
salted pork, and lofts to be filled with wheat, as well 
as ovens, a mill, and a great well. Every preparation 
seemed on a large scale, and capable of feeding an 
army for months. 

Of course, the guide told the old story, so fre- 
quently heard in places of this kind, of how, when 
the siege had been on for months and the resources 
of those within the fortification were running 

[223] 



ABROAD IjST A RUNABOUT 

low, a baker appeared upon tlie walls and hurled 
among the besiegers a number of loaves of bread ; and 
they, seeing such waste, believed it useless to pro- 
long the struggle, and went away; sometimes this 
story is varied by introducing an old lady with a pig 
which she feeds to surfeiting and then permits to 
escape among the enemy, but the principle is always 
the same and if these incidents happened as often as 
related, there could have been but little exchange 
of ideas or news in those days. 

We have heard it charged that the extraordinary 
restorations have spoiled all the romantic attraction 
of the place, and that a ruin is much more in- 
teresting, but we did not find this to be the case 
here, whatever it may have been in other places. 
Vines and fallen towers are beautiful, but it was ex- 
ceedingly interesting to see these tremendous wide- 
flung walls, garnished with their many magnificent 
towers, and all the clever devices for withstanding 
the enemy, just as they had been in the moment of 
their greatest perfection. One interesting feature 
was the constant effort that had been made to keep 
the soldiers, often, of course, mercenaries, from get- 
ting in to the townspeople or to the nobles in the 
castle. There was evidently as much danger from 
these defenders as from the openly avowed enemy. 

[224] 



MONTPELLIER — PERPIGNAN 

Save the fortification, there is practicallj nothing 
to see in the old Cite, and less than nothing in the 
comparatively modem and distressingly dirty Ville- 
hasse. So, very shortly after luncheon, we were 
ready to start on our run back to the mountains. 
When we were once more on the main road we stopped 
for a last long look up at the wonderful place which 
lay upon its height, a mediaeval fortress, a real and 
substantial thing which will remain for hundreds of 
years a monument to the skill and learning of Viollet 
le Due, as well as an honor and a glory to France. 



15 



[225] 



CHAPTEK XVIII 

THE PYEJENEES 

VEEY soon we realized that we were likely to 
have a showery run, but the road was good 
and the day not cold, so when after perhaps twenty 
miles the rain began, and suddenly turned to vigor- 
ous hail, we did not mind it much. With curtains 
down, all cozy and dry we listened to the sharp beat- 
ing on the glass front and wondered what we would 
do if it should break, and then the hail stopped, the 
clouds drifted away, and we ran on to Foix without 
mishap — no small feat, for the last 'Q.ve miles we 
met one almost continuous line of vehicles returning 
from the great annual fete at Foix. Mostly they 
were high, two-wheeled carts, the men in loose cot- 
ton smocks of black, blue, or bright pink, and beside 
them their wives and children, all the pictures of 
health and satisfaction. 

We drew up at the Hotel Benoit, but were not al- 
lowed to put the auto into the garage until it was 
certain that we could get a room, for the celebration 
had filled every available bed and corner. But for- 

[ 226 ] 



THE PYRENEES 

tunatelj some one had just left and his good front 
room with its fine view of the stonj little river, 
Ariege, and the castle fell to us. 

The castle is situated on a steep rock one hundred 
and ninety-five feet high, and consists mainly of 
three connected, battlemented towers, which date 
from different periods, the earliest probably about 
the year 1000. Three times it successfully resisted 
Simon de Montfort, who besieged it, vowing that he 
would " melt it like gravy and roast its master." 
But the rock refused to bum and the counts of 
Foix reigned in great magnificence for a long time 
thereafter. 

This fortress, because of its glorious history and 
its great picturesqueness, was specially exempted when 
Richelieu had most of the castles in this region 
destroyed, nevertheless there is little of importance to 
be seen in it to-day. 

The whole place is almost theatrical in appearance ; 
the swift mountain rivers, for the Arget here joins 
the Ariege, the quaint old buildings, the frowning 
crags, the beautiful towers, and the heavily wooded 
mountains cradling all, make a picture well worthy 
of going out of one's way to see. 

Stir and excitement filled the town and the hotel 
was a bedlam, so that very soon after dinner we 

[227] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

went to our room and assembling our two tall can- 
delabra gave ourselves up to the study of maps, books, 
and routes for the next few days' run, until we grew 
sleepy. We slept well at first, tben were awakened 
by music, and getting up, watched the people who 
filled the streets, though it must have been after mid- 
night. There were hundreds of them, all in their 
holiday clothes, and all, at times, joining in the 
promenading and dancing. The special feature of 
the festivities seemed to be a sort of Old Dan Tucker, 
where everybody formed in a circle in the street and 
went round and round, in a queer, loping, crouching 
dance, to some weird strain of music whose short 
melody was repeated over and over by the band. It 
was like carnival time, and all the night was hideous 
with noisy crowds, who roamed up and down the 
streets with drums, whistles, and tin cans, on which 
they pounded. 

In the morning, on Madame' s remarking to the 
landlady, that we had never passed such a noisy 
night, she replied, " 'No, I suppose it is generally 
quiet and orderly in London," and we did not en- 
lighten her. 

After breakfast her English-speaking husband gave 
us careful directions for going to the Maz d'Azil and 
these we followed, though persuaded from our map 

[228] 




IT IS HARD TO BELIEVE IT OTHER THAN A MODERN :MUXICIPAL 

BUILDING " 

[ Page 184 ] 




"IT IS CONSTRUCTED WITHOUT THE USE OF CEMENT OR MORTAR " 

[ Page 185 ] 



THE PYRENEES 

study that he was wrong, and in doing so went the 
longest way round, but finally arrived at the place 
we sought. 

This is very confusing, often a motorist will figure 
out distance, direction, and road to his entire satis- 
faction and then, asking for some trifling bit of in- 
formation, will be so vehemently assured by an ex- 
cited but eagerly helpful native that all that he had 
intended to do is wrong, long, hard, and impracti- 
cable or utterly impossible, that in the end, feeling 
that the people familiar with the region ought to 
know and that perhaps the roads indicated on the 
maps have been disused or replaced by better ones, 
he will reluctantly and doubtingly change his course 
and do as he is told, only to find that he has been 
sent over poor roads or far afield and very likely, 
in the end, he has to pick up his intended route at 
some point and continue on it to the place of his 
destination. This happens about nine times out of 
ten; the tenth time the native is right and the road 
he recommends is shorter and more picturesque, and 
altogether the better one to have chosen. It is this 
uncertainty which causes one to be so often misled 
and so often out of patience with kindly intentioned 
people, who have perhaps never been over both roads, 
it may be have never even heard of the second one 

[229] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

and who certainlj^ give in all sincerity the best in- 
formation at their command. 

In this country we have been wilfully misled or 
grudgingly advised, more than once, but in France 
and Germany never; of Switzerland we would not 
be so sure, for the feeling there is so antagonistic to 
the motorists that natural courtesy might be for a 
moment laid aside under the sudden temptation to 
send an auto over the longest, hardest road. 

However, the Maz d'Azil was worth the extra run. 
It is a natural tunnel under a mountain, and through 
it runs a river, beside which lies the smooth electric- 
lighted road about half a mile in length. The central 
vault is upheld by a great rock pillar and there are 
side grottoes that are said to have been inhabited in 
the Stone Age, and where, in 1625, two thousand 
Protestants took refuge from the fury of the Catho- 
lics. The whole is not so large as might be wished, 
but the high, mysterious dome filled with the inar- 
ticulate voice of the water and but dimly lighted by 
infrequent lamps makes a rarely interesting auto 
run. We went through the grotto and then back, and 
took a picture of the car just entering the mouth of 
the cave. Then we left it to its silence, and went on 
to St. Girons, where we had luncheon. 

Just beyond St. Girons, which is quite a flourish- 

[ 230 ] 



THE PYRENEES 

ing place, is the cnimbling old town of St. Lizier, 
the Lugdumim Consoranorum of the I^^maiis. It 
has only twelve hundred inhabitants to-day, but re- 
tains its twelve towered Roman walls and has an an- 
cient church with noteworthy cloisters. The old 
chateau is now used as an insane hospital and the 
wretched town looks a picture of discouragement and 
decay. 

From here we went on to Salies du Salat, a tiny 
town dominated by the almost vanished ruins of its 
mediaeval castle, and on again through St. Martory, 
St. Gaudens, and Montrejeau — all queer old towns 
with, no doubt, much to interest antiquarians hidden 
in them, but with little to detain the tourist for 
more than a few moments. 

The region hereabouts we thought very charming, 
with its wooded slopes, fruitful valleys, several lit- 
tle rivers, and many interesting ruined towers, while 
behind all, and stretching on either hand as far as 
we could see, loomed the vast masses of the Pyrenees, 
growing more beautiful the farther we went and 
with every changing cloud that floated over them. 

From Montrejeau, a most indifferent road led out 
to the rock-perched town and cathedral of St. Ber- 
trand de Comminges. The place, important under 
the Romans, now numbers less than six hundred in- 

[231] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

habitants, and its sole interest is the gray fortress- 
like cathedral. " The Commingeois are naturally 
warriors," wrote Bertrand de Comminges, and the 
history of the town for hundreds of years is a lurid 
record of wars and religious quarrels, sieges, crimes,' 
burnings, and massacres from Y9 B. C, till the 
Kevolution. 

The cathedral was begun in 1082 and is in the 
main well preserved. Its principal features are the 
curious carvings of wood and stone in which, in 
strange juxtaposition, are the pagan story of the 
Labors of Hercules and the genealogy of Christ, 
blended with beautiful arabesques and figures from 
unnumbered myths and sacred stories. 

The views and the stony ancient town attracted 
us more than the carvings, however, and to them we 
gave but a short visit, for the afternoon was well 
along, and it was fifty-seven kilometres to Tarbes 
where we were to stay for the night. We wanted 
very much to go directly from St. Bertrand de Com- 
minges without crossing again the road to Montre- 
jeau, and a courteous French chauffeur gave us 
information which proved correct after we had extri- 
cated ourselves from the network of little field roads 
below the town. 

The run to Tarbes was pleasant and more and 

[ 232 ] 



THE PYRENEES 

more lovely as it drew to the sunset hour ; the whole 
air about us seemed filled with a luminous gold, 
which farther away shaded into tints of lavender 
and purple, from which the dark masses of the 
woods stood out with a quaint, poster-like effect and 
through which the far white peaks of the moun- 
tains rose in ethereal beauty. 

The descent into Tarbes is over a perfect road 
and through a region practically parked for miles. 
We were, for some unknown reason, prepossessed in 
favor of the unpretending city before we reached it. 
Into its very heart we rolled, and on the Place Mau- 
bourguet saw several hotels, all apparently com- 
fortable, but one of them was so new and so re- 
splendent that we chose it. 

This fortunate choice of hotels seemed to be one 
of our blessings. Sometimes we missed the roads, 
sometimes selected an indifferent place for luncheon, 
but night found us almost invariably well placed, 
even though we did not always depend on Baedeker, 
and seldom went to the hotels that he stars or places 
first on his list. In the Hotel Moderne here, we 
found all and much more than we could have 
expected. 

Imagine our surprise ; our room had two enamelled 
washstands with running hot and cold water ! There 

[233] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

may be such, another hotel in Europe, but we have 
never seen it. Incidentally, we may add that it is 
well to go to these Hotels Moderne, for they are 
generally, in a more or less degree what the name 
indicates. Here the table was excellent, the elevator 
rapid (for Europe), the service willing, and every- 
thing as bright and clean as a new penny, for the 
building had not been open more than two months. 

In the evening we went to an open-air music 
hall and enjoyed a very innocent vaudeville enter- 
tainment until midnight. The next day was Sun- 
day, and to our disappointment the clouds hung so 
low over the mountains that it was folly to go out 
to Cauterets and the Cirque de Gravarnie, for the 
views, which are the sole attractions, would be en- 
tirely obliterated. 

We wandered for a while about the city and 
through the Jardin Massey. One of the guide books 
says of this that it is " a large flat public garden near 
the railway," every word of which is undeniably 
true, but the impression which it gives is utterly 
false. 1^0 public garden that we have seen in 
Europe — and there are many between Liverpool 
and l^aples — possesses for us the charm of this flat 
one near the railway, saving only the Pare Monceau 
in Paris. There are great beds of flowers that scent 

[234] 



THE PYRENEES 

the air, many varieties of exotic trees, a museum of 
paintings and antiquities, a bright little lake, and 
near this the fifteenth century cloisters from the 
Abbey of St. Sever de Hustan. These ancient 
cloisters form a square, around a velvety sward and 
consist of arches formed by forty pillars of yellowed 
marble, whose capitals are sculptured with the ut- 
most delicacy and ingenuity, into the likeness of 
everything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or 
in the waters under the earth. Here, again, the 
mediaeval mixture of sacred and profane images, 
which is noticeable in so many cathedrals and vener- 
able places, and which always comes home with a 
shock to the tourist, is markedly in evidence. 

The effect of these ancient marbles is lovely, and 
so, indeed, is the whole park which is threaded 
with dainty streamlets and ponds on which swans 
and waterfowls float, often coming up to the banks, 
to wheedle morsels of food from the children — big 
and little — who delight in feeding them, and who 
laugh with pleasure when queer squawks and raucous 
cries announce that some new bird is hurrying up, 
hoping that the supply of food will last until he 
gets his share. 

After a time we returned to the hotel, and taking 
the auto went out to Bagneres de Bigorre, in the face 

[235] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

of clouds so dark that it looked as if we might 
catch a downpour any minute. But the distance 
was short and we knew that even a storm could not 
prove a serious inconvenience here. 

The town is a popular thermal station, having, it 
is said, fifty springs, whose waters were well known 
to the Homans, and which are used for drinking and 
bathing and are prescribed for disorders ranging 
from skin diseases to surgical cases. The season 
is from June to October, but was nearly over, and 
after luncheon and a drive about to see the casino 
and the promenade, we went on to Lourdes. 

It was a charming ride over roads as smooth as a 
table, though by no means so level, with streams, 
trees, villages, and mountains on every hand, the 
great peaks no longer distant and hazy, but very close 
and insistent. 

All the world is so familiar with Lourdes that it 
seems unnecessary to tell much about it. It is a 
little town of about nine thousand people which since 
1858 has been growing in importance because of the 
alleged revelations made by the Virgin there to a four- 
teen-year-old peasant girl named Bemadette Soubir- 
ous. The story goes that there, in a little grotto in 
the cliff, from which issues a tiny stream, the Virgin 
appeared, in all, eighteen times to the girl, and told 

[236] 




" THE PRISON. ONCE THE CASTLE OF KING RENE, ACROSS 
THE RHONE " 



[ Page 187 ] 



THE PYRENEES 

her to urge the priests to build a chapel, that 
all the world might go there to . pray, to drink the 
water, and to be healed. Almost at once, the account 
of these visions received credence and it is said 
that within six months fifty thousand persons had 
visited the miraculous spring in the hope of receiving 
its benefits. So greatly has the repute of the spring 
spread that now, in the one month of September, the 
close of the pilgrimage season, eighty to a hundred 
thousand people go to Lourdes, and, indeed, not only 
at that time, but all through the year. 

How many go to take the waters, how many from 
curiosity, how many from sincere faith and desire 
to do homage to the Mother of Sorrows, no one can 
say. Certainly, the day we were there, there were 
many thousand visitors and many, many devout 
worshippers in the crowd which attended the serv- 
ices in the little rock chapel. We saw them kiss 
the sides of the cave, and the very stones of the pave- 
ment in front of it. There were not only ignorant 
peasants, but stylishly gowned women, alert elderly 
men, stalwart officers, and young men and girls, of all 
imaginable social and intellectual grades, among the 
crowd who knelt with adoring faces, on the stones, 
telling their beads with fingers that trembled with 
the earnestness of their prayers. 

[237] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

But, oh ! the sick and the helpless ! It wrung our 
hearts to see them. Old people, obviously on the 
brink of the grave; joung children tossing with 
fever in their mothers' laps; men in the prime of 
life, victims of creeping paralysis; young girls 
twitching with nervous disorders; pale mothers 
coughing their lives away with each painful breath, 
and fathers holding blind and crippled children by 
the hand! Scores of them were in wheeled chairs; 
others, too ill to sit, were on stretchers flat on the 
ground; many, too weak to hold a rosary, moving 
their lips in rapt petitions, and others barely con- 
scious, simply lying there in the hope that by some 
miracle the blessings and the prayers might do them 
good, if ever so little. 

Surely it is the most terrible and the most pitiful 
sight that the sun sees in all his course. It is not 
only the suffering, but the heartrending patience 
and the misery of hope deferred, which make the 
scene painful beyond all description and beyond all 
forgetting. 

Hundreds of dollars' worth of exquisite flowers 
and sheaves of votive candles, armfuls of discarded 
crutches and accessories of illness, are there and do 
their quiet part in the work of healing; for that 

[ 238 ] 



THE PYRENEES 

cures have been made, and may still be made at 
Lourdes it is absurd to doubt. 

But we could not help feeling that the diseases con- 
tracted there from the unsanitary and promiscuous 
bathing, the contact with contagious diseases, the 
breathing of the poisoned air in the packed churches, 
and the eating with forks and knives — for, alas, we 
have seen the middle-class French tourist eat — must 
far outnumber the cures accomplished. It is said 
that the medical men of France want the place closed 
and that the churches, hotels, and railroads want it 
kept open; if so, the indications are that science has 
a long wait yet before her. 

Immense sums of money are spent every year in 
hotels, church contributions, excursions, and in the 
souvenir stores with which the streets are filled, and 
the town from a mountain village with a notable past, 
is becoming a flourishing place with a prosperous 
future before it. There is a very picturesque and 
lordly castle overlooking the town in a strategic po- 
sition which, in an earlier day, gave it a desirable 
command of the valley, and with views from its bat- 
tlements which are enchanting. 

On the top of the cliff at whose base the sacred 
spring rises is a magnificent basilica dedicated in 
1876 in a gorgeous ceremony in which thirty-five 

[239] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

archbishops assisted. The building is in the style 
of the thirteenth century, but looks as perfectly 
modern as it is ; inside it is a blaze of color, by rea- 
son of the numbers of banners in the dome, and the 
votive tablets and offerings which cover the walls. 

Sixty-five feet lower down on this same hill, is 
the Church of the Eosary, an even more modern 
building, and of an imposing appearance, because of 
the horseshoe-shaped inclined ways supported on 
arches and the two flights of stairs which lead from it 
to the basilica. Money has been lavishly spent to 
beautify the town, and its site is magnificent, but all 
these things are as nothing to the visitor at Lourdes. 
The interest is in the stony little chapel where the 
candles flicker and the breathless Ave Marias rise 
day and night, and where the suffering, the believing, 
and the despairing worship at the shrine of the Vir- 
gin who said to the peasant child, " Go to the foun- 
tain, eat of the grass beside it, pray for mankind, 
tell the priests to build me a chapel; I am the Im- 
maculate Conception." 

We had no desire to stay overnight in Lourdes, so 
did not wait to see the impressive and spectacular 
torch-light procession of the pilgrims, who ascend 
the cliff, praying, to the chapel far above the basilica, 
but turned and went thoughtfully back to Tarbes. 

[240] 



THE PYRENEES 

Anxious to forget, in some measure, the horrors 
we had seen, we walked about the city, visited a 
statue in honor of Danton and the Spirit of 1792, 
and then drifted back to the Jardin Massey. There 
we found a military band and groups of well-dressed 
people sauntering up and down the paths and enjoy- 
ing the sunshine, for the day had cleared again as it 
advanced. The swans still raced one another for tid- 
bits, the shadows of the old cloisters fell in long bars 
across the grass, and a quiet, contented spirit pre- 
vailed, only the more attractive to us because of its 
contrast to the fevered unrest of Lourdes. 

The following day we were ready by nine o'clock 
to leave for our run north, through the heart of 
Trance. We had our baggage put on, tipped every- 
body, Madame got in. Monsieur turned the crank, 
and — the engine would not start. ISTot only did it 
not start, but it could not start. Repeated crank- 
ings and floodings of the carburetor did no good, not 
one revolution would it make. After a few vain ef- 
forts and some equally futile remarks. Monsieur 
looked to the electricity and found that in switch- 
ing off after our return yesterday, he had turned the 
plug too far and thereby left on the current and that 
the accumulator, which our Bavarian friend Carl 
Six had helped us to install, was dead. Not a 
16 [ 241 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

flicker of life would ever be in it till it was charged 
again. 

Then we started on a search for a charged battery 
or for the ordinary dry cells, as it meant a whole 
day's delay if we had to wait for the charging. The 
garage people were very kind, but it looked as if we 
would be obliged to wait. However, one of the work- 
men finally went with us to another garage, and 
there we found an accumulator, all ready for use. 

It seemed quite an expense to buy a new one, when 
by waiting till the next morning we could have our 
own again, but a letter had come j.o us at Carcas- 
sonne, and its answer had been sent after our re- 
turn from Lourdes which made us feel that the loss 
of a day might mean serious delay in the end, also 
an extra battery is good to have, so we bought it. It 
slipped in much more readily than the one at Fiis- 
sen and we started north, feeling that we were fac- 
ing toward home and that the close of our trip was 
suddenly much nearer than it had been yesterday. 



[242] 



CHAPTER XIX 

THROUGH THE HEART OF FRANCE 

A STUDY of sections twenty, nineteen, and fif- 
teen of the Taride maps had shown ns such 
a wilderness of sharp ascents and descents, abrupt 
curves and places marked " dangerous," that we had 
written to the Touring Club of France to ask their 
help, in laying out our route from Tarbes to Blois 
via Rocamadour, and they had sent us three small 
sectional charts covering the regions to be traversed, 
giving directions as to which road to follow and as- 
suring us that over these routes we should have no 
trouble. All this excellent advice and comfort the 
Director of Administrative Services had the honor 
to present with his " most ardent compliments " to 
Monsieur Hand, and with " devoted sentiments " 
signed himself in an illegible scribble. But it was 
his help, not his name, that we wanted, and we 
thank him here once more for the accuracy and 
correctness of his itineraries, which we followed to 
the letter. 

The hills and valleys were almost continuous at 

[243] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

first, but by tbe time we had readied Auch we were 
over the worst of them for the day. Here we bought 
a picnic lunch and then went on, eating it as we rode, 
to save time. The run from there was pretty but 
uneventful, only one intentional stop being made, 
and that was to take a picture of a kilometric stone 
for a souvenir, and we finished our one hundred and 
seventy-three kilometres in good order, and drew 
up at the Hotel du Midi in Montauban, by four 
o'clock. 

While Madame dressed, a gentleman who had been 
for fifteen years a Texas cowboy and who now be- 
longed to the Secret Service of France, introduced 
himself to Monsieur, saying that he had seen our 
flag and hungered to hear and speak " American," 
and begging that he might be allowed to show us his 
native city, which we were only too glad to have him 
do. 

It was a pleasure to see how fond he was of his 
home town. He showed us through its old castle, 
begun in the twelfth or thirteenth century, but now 
used as a city hall and museum; the bridge dating 
from 1291, over the Tarn, the market square, whose 
double rows of arcades are the only ones of the kind 
left in France, and finally the spot where had stood, 
until its fall a few weeks ago, the old clock tower. 

[244] 




\VE TOOK A PICTURE OF A KILOMETRIC STONE FOR A SOUVENIR " 

[ Page 244 ] 



THE HEART OF FRANCE 

It seems that the workmen had been engaged inside 
it making repairs, when suddenly, with no apparent 
cause, thej heard the great bell begin to toll. Terri- 
fied, they all ran out, thus escaping uninjured, 
as did every one in the square, also, when, in a 
moment, the whole structure began to totter and 
presently crashed to the ground, leaving only a pile 
of bricks and mortar to testify to the truth of his 
story. 

Montauban, like Montpellier, used to be a favor- 
ite winter resort with the English, and was so still 
when Sterne wrote his " Sentimental Journey," but 
what charm it may have had then, other than its 
mild climate, is gone, and the place is now purely 
a commercial city of thirty thousand. 

The Hotel du Midi faces directly on the cathedral, 
an uninteresting building which contains, however, 
one good painting by Ingres, a native of the town. 
Baedeker stars this hotel and speaks of it as " of the 
first class," but this is incorrect, unless he means, 
for the time being, to number from the top down. 
The meals are good, of the first class, indeed, com- 
pared with everything else in the hotel; its toilet 
facilities are unspeakable, and it is old and ram- 
shackle — a fire trap, and, in short, a place to be 
shunned at any price, and we were glad to start at 

[ 245 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

an early hour in the morning for the. remote little 
pilgrimage town of Rocamadour. 

The day was ideal, the roads perfect, and the car 
running merrily as if it, too, felt glad to be leav- 
ing the mountains behind. Mountain climbing may 
be — indeed, is — interesting, but going with the 
freedom of a bird's flight over level roads, through 
fertile, rich country, where the people are well fed 
and content, sure of a good living for themselves 
and their live stock, and of each year laying aside 
a little more against the rainy day, is much more to 
our taste. Great rocks, deep gorges, floating veils 
of cascading water, sno^vy peaks, and stony plateaus 
whose scanty herbage poorly nourishes an occasional 
flock of sheep watched by a wind-shaken shepherd, — ■ 
these things make effective pictures to enjoy in the 
luxury of one's home, or amid the hush of great art 
galleries, but seen for days by two people, from the 
seat of a little car which has no supply house nearer 
than four thousand miles, they finally lose some of 
their charm, and we were heartily glad to be getting 
away from impressive scenery, wandering gypsies, 
and ignorant mountaineers into a more modem and a 
better country. 

Still, it is only by travelling through the provinces 
that one can get any idea of the resources of France, 

[246] 



THE HEART OF FRANCE 

of the diligence and sturdy patience that wrest a 
little out of the most discouraging conditions and 
lay away fully one quarter of that little. For it is 
the small farm holding, well worked, that makes 
Prance rich. She has a population of over forty mil- 
lion, and of those about six million are land owners, 
in general holding not more than twelve acres, but 
farming those acres so carefully and living so fru- 
gally on their small product, that it is impossible to 
estimate accurately the sum which would be forth- 
coming again if necessity were suddenly to arise. 
Only in the provinces can one learn what the soil does 
for France, or can one see the men and women who 
made possible the payment of her German war debt 
in a manner that has astonished the thinking world. 

In the cities an altogether different side of the 
national character is seen ; there idling in cafes ^ driv- 
ing motors at reckless speed from a childish craving 
to be admired, or from an even more deplorable lack 
of sound common sense, smoking and loafing along the 
boulevards, seem to be the sole occupations of dandi- 
fied, sparsely bewhiskered young men, while in the 
country necessity seems to have fashioned them with 
more regard to adapting means, both mental and phys- 
ical, to the end of getting something accomplished. 

We ran in a happy monotony of good roads over 

[247] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

gentle hills and valleys the sixty kilometres to Cahors, 
and there stopped for early luncheon at the old Hotel 
des Ambassadeurs. 

Afterwards we visited the Bridge of Yalentre, 
built in 1251 across the river Lot, in whose quiet 
waters its arches were mirrored to trembling ovals. 
This bridge is the best example of those fortified 
ones of the thirteenth century left in France. It 
has three strong towers and is in excellent preserva- 
tion. The city contains much that is historic and 
interesting. Old houses, bits of ancient walls, a 
Tower of the Hanged, a fourteenth-century college, 
and a royal chateau, but for all these we stayed not 
more than a couple of hours, and went on to Eoca- 
madour through a peculiar country called Les 
Gausses. 

This name comes from calx, limestone, and the 
region is one of great barren plains, which cover a 
large part of the departments of Lot, Lozere, Avey- 
ron, Gard, and Herault, and rise in places three 
thousand seven hundred feet above the sea level. 
They are practically deserts, hot in summer and 
bitterly cold in winter, and barren and windy at all 
times. The whole region is composed of limestone, 
which is what causes these desert conditions, for 
the limestone is pervious and lets the water through 

[ 248 ] 



THE HEART OF FRANCE 

readily, thus leaving the soil dry, and causing the 
underground rivers, which if the rock had been 
granite would have remained above ground and 
saved the land from sterility, as is proved by the 
verdant valleys and gullies which occasionally cut the 
causses. 

The startling contrast between the canyons and the 
causses forms phenomena which are often very 
beautiful. For miles before reaching Eocamadour 
we drove along high ledges, over roads evidently 
blasted out of the cliff overlooking lovely little val- 
leys, which unfortunately we could not half appre- 
ciate, as the roads were so narrow and the curves so 
many and so sharp that we were kept busy watching 
them, and changing from brakes to engine and back 
again, our interest about evenly divided between 
keeping the car on the road and wondering where 
they would bury us if we did not. At last, however, 
we came in sight of the town and had an uninter- 
rupted view of it, as the road widened and fol- 
lowed in gracious curves along a cliff directly oppo- 
site, across the narrow winding gorge of the Alzou, 
sometimes known as the Shadowy Valley. 

Is it not Elizabeth Eobbins Pennell who speaks 
of Le Puy as " the most picturesque place in the 
world"? We agreed with her until this view and, 

[ 249 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

indeed, everj view of Eocamadour made us give Le 
Puy the second place, and not a very close second 
either. Eocamadour clings to the great cliff like a 
giant hornet's nest, and, like it, is gray and weather- 
beaten and hardly noticeable at first. A long time 
we revelled in the delight of it, distinguishing from 
moment to moment new features and fresh attrac- 
tions in its climbing loveliness. 

It is incomprehensible and regrettable that this 
place should be so little known to the ordinary tour- 
ist, though the natives visit it in tens of thousands 
annually, especially during the May and September 
pilgrimages, to venerate the relics of St. Amadour, 
generally considered to be the original Zacchseus, the 
publican, who brought here the famous Black Madon- 
na and established the hermitage in which he lived 
for years. 

We swept down the slope, across the gorge and then 
toiled up the steep climb into the main street of the 
village, where we were at once besieged by young 
women, runners for the different hotels. They al- 
most tore us from the car in their eagerness not to 
have us go to the Hotel of the Golden Lion, but we 
kept on until we came to it — the last one in the 
town and reputed to be the best, but certainly noth- 
ing remarkable. 

[250] 



THE HEART OF FRANCE 

"We hurried more tlian usually through our more 
than usually necessary ablutions, and went at once 
out through the rear of the hotel onto a terrace so 
high that it saved us some of the two hundred and 
fifteen steps which lead from the ground to the level 
of the small plateau, where are assembled the miracu- 
lous chapel, the Chapel of St. Michel, the Tomb of 
St. Amadour, the palace of the Bishop, and the 
Church of St. Sauveur. 

It was the week of the great autumn pilgrimage 
and services were being conducted everywhere, and 
everywhere devout pilgrims were praying, singing, 
or kneeling, lost in awe, before the sacred shrines. 
Many climbed the worn stone steps on their knees, 
others continued on their knees or on foot, the long 
way of the cross, which with its stations, leads up to a 
Gethsemane and a great crucifix which was carried 
here by barefooted pilgrims from Jerusalem and 
which stands on the very summit of the hill. The 
priests walked at the heads of the groups of pilgrims 
who were singing and praying their slow way up the 
Calvary, and the effect was very touching, so far as 
the penitents were concerned, but the priests seemed 
only bored and anxious to get it all over and done. 
We saw some few sick, but the great majority were 
well and evidently combining the religious duty with 

[251] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

their infrequent holiday in a highly satisfactory 
manner. 

The exquisitely carved miraculous chapel contains 
a black wooden image of the Virgin, and is in part 
walled by the living rock, but crude as that seems, 
the little place makes an impression of great richness 
and beauty of color; from the galleries hang many- 
hued banners and glimmering marble votive tablets 
cover the walls, testifying to the gratitude of those 
whose petitions have been answered ; burning candles 
and stained glass windows add to the effect, while 
slow wreathing clouds ol incense hover over the bowed 
heads and seem to blend ancient and modem wor- 
shippers and tourists in reverent harmony. 

It is another two hundred and fifteen steps from 
the chapel to the castle, which crowns the height and 
which was built to protect the sanctuaries, but which 
now wears out a peaceful age as a home for mission- 
ary priests. 

From every point of its walls and tower, the views 
are magnificent. Hills, rocks, woods, and valleys 
stretch in every direction, here in gentle sweeps and 
wavy lines, there rough and rugged, telling plainly 
of volcanic origin. We stood entranced, following 
eagerly the flowing road over which we had come, 
and watching now the toiling pilgrims, now the pen- 

[252] 




WHICH NOW WEARS OUT A PEACEFUL AGE AS A HOME FOU 

MISSIONARY PRIESTS " 

[ Page 252 ] 



THE HEART OF FRANCE 

nons, which the sunset floated on the quiet sky. A 
swaying vine or exposed bough stood out occasionally 
in brilliant autumnal coloring, showing only too 
surely that our summer and our holiday were drawing 
to an end. 

Eeturned through the thronged streets to the hotel, 
we dined, and then spent the evening, visiting with 
an English member of Parliament and his wife, who 
were here with their car and their chauffeur. The 
gentleman, next morning, when we were making ready 
for our start, became so much interested in the theory 
of our detachable tires that he called his chauffeur 
and begged us to go through the painful performance 
of taking off and putting on a tire, that they might 
see how it was done. He was so frankly curious as 
to everything, inquiring its price and its use and ad- 
miring everything so generously, that we could not 
begrudge the dusty work or the loss of time in his 
service. 

And if a reward had been needed, it came when 
Madame going up stairs to tip the maid, met him and 
asked if he knew where she was. " Yes," he re- 
plied, " she is in this second room ; what do you want 
of her ? " " Only to give her a tip." " How much 
are you giving ? " he demanded. " One franc," she 
replied, not dreaming what excitement she was stir- 

[253] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

ring up, when with the greatest vehemence he cried, 
" It 's too much ; too much bj half. Yon Americans 
are ruining every servant over here. Give me your 
franc, and I will change it. It will never do; you 
must only give her fifty centimes. That is all I 
shall give, and she has done more for us than she has 
for you." Cowed by his violence, and knowing that 
he was right, Madame extended her franc, while he 
found a fifty-centime piece. Then he gave her this, 
took her franc, put it in his pocket and still mut- 
tering about these scandalous Americans, stalked 
down the corridor to his room. When he was out of 
sight, Madame found the maid, gave her the half- 
franc, and went gleefully out to the waiting car, 
where the Englishman appeared in a few moments, 
all unconscious of his blunder, and waved us an en- 
thusiastic farewell. 

E'ot till we were well started did Madame tell 
Monsieur how the law-maker had " done " her as 
well as the maid out of a dime. The good laugh 
we had was worth the price which we would gladly 
double to know if he has ever discovered his mistake, 
and, if so, what he said and how he felt. 

Our morning's run was to be only seventeen kilo- 
metres to the Gouffre de Padirac. These so-called 
gouffres are natural wells in which the rainfall 

[254] 



THE HEART OF FRANCE 

gathers, by reason of the pervious limestone which 
forms the surface overhead; the water flows in the 
form of rivers for a greater or less distance, through 
underground channels, then rises to the surface, 
where it continues as ordinary rivers. The wells 
are numerous, hereabouts, but the Gouffre de Padirac, 
explored in 1889 by a Paris lawyer named Martel, 
is the largest and the best-known. 

It seemed at first simply a great hole in the earth, 
a hundred and ten feet wide and two hundred and 
fifty feet deep. Down this the guide led us, by 
vertical ladders, four hundred and forty steps in all. 
At the bottom, after a short walk, we stepped into a 
boat and were rowed over a silent, mysterious stream 
to a wide pool, called Rainy Lake, whose quiet sur- 
face is troubled day and night by falling drops of 
moisture from the huge over-arching vault above. 

It was more like the country that the poet sings of, 

"Where Alph, the sacred river, ran, 
Through caverns, measureless to man, 
Down to a sunless sea,^' 

than like the heart of twentieth-century France, and 
unconsciously our voices were hushed by the weird- 
ness of the great cave and the mystery of its silent 
river, flowing apparently without beginning or end, 

[255] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

beneath us. Electric bulbs lighted dimly our course, 
and revealed great stalactites and stalagmites wraith- 
like above us. Delicate columns and glistening 
pendants and sometimes rough copies of mushrooms 
and pineapples and things that we had known in an- 
other world, stole for a moment to the light and then 
faded into obscurity as we floated past tnem; and 
with the winding of the river came tangled memories 
of all the cave and underground stream stories that 
we had ever read, and chief and most vividly of them 
all the adventure of Tom Sawyer and his little girl 
companion, lost for days in McDougaFs cave and 
hardly knowing which they feared most to encounter 
— the fluttering bats, the slow death by starvation, or 
the dreaded Injun Joe. ♦ 

At length the river narrowed, and we turned back, 
still finding new wonders, as we approached the land- 
ing place. Here the mystery quickly lessened, and 
by the time we had reached the foot of the tall pillar 
of ladders, Madame heard Monsieur chuckle behind 
her and realized that again she had launched into 
her accustomed boosting for America. But our 
guide was enthralled and even after we had gained the 
top was asking questions about a country in which 
farm hands earned a hundred and fifty francs the 
month and where servant girls could easily get twenty- 

[256] 







Ui o 



a 9 



ui i? 




THE HEART OF FRANCE 

^Ye to thirty francs a week, eat as good food as their 
employers, and occupy comfortable, heated rooms. 
He had a grown son and daughter and who knows 
that, in spite of Monsieur's laughter, the seed dropped 
in that deep cave may not some day bear its flower 
in their happy, well-paid service here ? 

We had an early luncheon, in a restaurant part 
way up the shaft, and started at once thereafter, for 
what we had every reason to suppose would be a 
pleasant though a rather long run to Limoges. For 
the first few miles we had difficulty in getting on the 
right road, but finally found it, and were going well, 
when several miles from Brive, with a long sigh, a 
rear tire went flat. It was already later than we 
would have wished, and we mended it as hurriedly 
as we could, consoling ourselves with the thought that 
we had had very little annoyance of that kind in 
weeks. Almost in sight of the city it went flat again. 
It was only too evident now that we were in for the 
usual rain of tire trouble, and as all the world knows, 
" it never rains but it pours," we had no doubt as to 
what was in store for us. 

From Brive to Limoges is ninety-eight kilometres, 

and the road is a continual succession of climbs and 

descents, following the crests of hills, and crossing 

the watershed which divides the tributaries of the 

17 [ 257 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

Loire from those of the Garonne. Uneasily we went 
on, and wlien within twenty kilometres of Limoges, 
heard again the familiar sigh and got out to mend 
once more the same rear tire. If our Member of 
Parliament could have seen that exhibition of the 
merits of the quick detachable tires, he would have 
stripped the twelve cars^ which it had leaked out that 
he had, and re-equipped them, every one. By this 
time also, the air bottle had reached its last gasp and, 
what was worse, we could no longer disguise the fact 
that the cause of our troubles lay not in punctures, 
but in worn-out valves, and valves were the one thing 
that we had forgotten to bring with us. Twice more 
we were obliged to stop and change tubes before 
Limoges appeared. 

The dusk was just upon us and we could no longer 
read the map, scarcely even see the road before us, 
any turn might be one that we ought to take ; but we 
clung tenaciously to what we judged to be the high- 
road and raced the gathering darkness, knowing that 
we must find cover at once as we had never yet made 
the prudent and often discussed purchase of carbide. 
When at last the steeples rose before us, we had to 
face the question how, in a city of eighty-four thou- 
sand people, we were ever going to find the Hotel 

[ 258 ] 



THE HEART OF FRANCE 

Moderne, or any other, before we should be arrested 
for running without lights. 

But fortune at last favored us. On the outskirts 
of the town we saw an old mail carrier, and paused 
to ask him for help. He was quick to seize the situa- 
tion, and exclaimed, " If you have an extra seat, I'll 
show you," and we were off in less than half a minute. 
For blocks and blocks we ran, a perfectly straight 
course and up hill all the way, and then, with a few 
directing waves of his hand, found ourselves at the 
hotel just as darkness fell, and the lights of the streets 
flared up, and just as the over-weighed valve hissed 
out its protest, and, once more, and with an air of 
finality, gave up the ghost. 

We were too tired and too thankful to have arrived 
at all, to discuss our situation that night, and when 
we awakened on a bright, clear morning, to military 
music from the barracks near by, it did not seem so 
hopeless. We started out at once to find a garage, 
and did so without trouble, for Limoges is a wide- 
awake, commercial city. But to find one where they 
had any little springs to fit our valve stems, or even 
had any ideas that tended to help us, was another 
matter. 

We had a long hunt, but finally bought new valves 

[259] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

entirely and one new inner tube, which, of course was 
fitted with a valve. This was put on and we felt 
that we had escaped very lightly from a situation 
which might have meant serious annoyance and the 
loss of several days had it occurred in a smaller city 
in which so large a stock of supplies had not been 
kept. Even in Limoges valves of the right size were 
impossible to find, and the holes in our rims had to be 
filed very carefully, lest they be made too large for 
American valves, and the matter consumed almost 
the whole day. 

When we were once more in order we took the car 
and went for a short drive about the city and to one 
of the enamel factories, for Limoges enamels have 
been famous since the tenth century, or before. 
This beautiful work is the main employment of the 
town. It is easy to gain access to the factories and 
very interesting to see the jewelry and the large 
placques and ornaments made, from the moment when 
the bright clear lumps of glass are ground to powder, 
until the repeated firings melt them into perfect works 
of art, which glow with an inner radiance from their 
gold and silver foundations. 

There is absolutely nothing to detain the tourist 
at Limoges, so we read of its long history, its wars 
and fires and pestilences, of its churches and its mu- 

[260] 



THE HEART OF FRANCE 

seums, but did no more, and left in good season 
the next day and did not worry about the few things 
which we might have seen had we been more diligent. 

With every mile that we made northward the hills 
and valleys smoothed themselves out and we came 
hourly into a better country, where the people were 
happier and less careworn, for now we were nearing 
the great granary of France. 

The first chateau which we saw was that of 
Yalengay. We paused to give a thought to the 
American girl who had once been its mistress, and to 
admire its imposing exterior and then ran on to 
Blois in time to get our mail for our unexpected 
change of plans had necessitated writing for sailing 
lists, which we hoped to receive here, as we realized 
that we must make haste if we were to get any sort 
of satisfactory accommodation at this late date. 

We stopped next for the view of Blois just before 
crossing the river, but the castle is too much hidden 
by clustering buildings to make any impression, and 
we went on over the bridge and up to the Grand 
Hotel de Blois, by some mistake getting into the very 
one that we intended to avoid. However, our pre- 
judice was unfounded and the place proved very com- 
fortable, evidently quite the fashionable American 
establishment. 

[261] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

We went next morning at once to the Chateau, of 
which it is difficult to write, for it has received more 
description, probably, than almost any building in 
France and is very generally familiar. 

The way to it is up a winding, slightly rising street 
and the entrance through a low doorway surmounted 
by a stiff equestrian statue of Louis XIL Inside the 
court the different styles of architecture are seen at a 
glance. There are three wings, one built by Louis 
XII, one by Francis I, and one by Gaston of Orleans 
and they cover a period of several hundred years. 
The first and third are comparatively unimportant, 
for the main interest and the most beautiful decora- 
tions belong to the wing of Francis I. The oldest 
part goes back to the thirteenth century and the most 
recent was built in 1635. Since the French Kevolu- 
tion the Chateau has received hard usage as powder 
magazine and barracks, but very complete restorations 
have been made since the year 1845. 

In the Gaston wing, which is formal and unin- 
teresting, the principal thing to be seen is the great 
staircase, by the elder Mansard. In the Louis XII 
wing, which is of more beautiful architecture, are 
the rooms of Anne of Brittany, his wife, her grace- 
ful device of the festooned and knotted rope and the 
ermine, being everywhere in evidence. 

[262] 



THE HEART OF FRANCE 

The most striking feature of the Francis I wing is 
the wonderful outside stairway, a miracle of grace, 
which climbs to the fourth story, with several large 
openings and a myriad of decorations, carved scrolls, 
gargoyles, arabesques, statuettes, festoons, flowers, and 
medallions, and always and everywhere the sala- 
mander, the emblem of Francis I. This sociable- 
looking beast was given him when he was a child for 
his device, by his tutor Boisi, and it writhes its scaly, 
good-natured body across nearly everything that 
Francis wrote or built or made until it becomes almost 
as tiresome, if not so melancholy, as the swans of 
the mad Ludwig of Bavaria. 

This wing contains the most personal and intimate 
rooms, those of Catherine de Medici, her bedroom, her 
boudoir, her oratory, and her study. The walls of 
the dressing-room are elaborately panelled and behind 
many of the panels are little secret armoires whose 
existence makes as greatly for the pleasure of the 
tourist as it must have for her convenience, many 
years ago. One wonders if among the jumble of in- 
nocent trinkets and aids to beauty, the little secret 
nooks did not occasionally contain some tiny bottle 
of roseate liquid not used for tinting the queen's 
lips and which the maids of the wardrobe handled 
gingerly, or if hidden under a pile of scented gloves 

[263] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

might not have lain a box of guileless-looking powder 
which bore no label and which needed none. 

Probably the next spot in the building to attract 
general interest is the room in which^ on December 
23, 1588, Henry III compassed the assassination 
of the Duke of Guise. The large council hall is 
shown and the fireplace at which the Duke stood 
warming himself, when the King, who had been 
busy perfecting his arrangements since four o'clock 
that morning, sent to request his presence in an 
adjoining room. The Duke, still without uneasiness, 
though several times warned, stepped at once to the 
King's apartments and not seeing him, turned to raise 
the curtain to go into the inner room, when suddenly 
his arm was seized and a dagger struck into his 
breast. He fought furiously, calling loudly for help, 
but the door had been locked behind him and the 
contest of forty-five to one could not long be a mat- 
ter of doubt; he fell at the foot of the King's bed, 
a bleeding, quivering thing, which five minutes be- 
fore had been a jaunty courtier, one so great that his 
power and popularity had been his undoing. When 
the body was at last still, the King came in and 
voiced his relief and satisfaction in the joyful ex- 
clamation, " We are no longer two: I am King now." 

A moment later, with a parting kick at the body, 

[264] 



^^1 



r'T^fH:T?ti* 



'•1 

or, '-^ ' *' 





MEN WERE SWEEPING AND SPRINKLING IT " 



[ Page 190 ] 




" WHERE THE ROCK MAKES THE WALLS OF THE BUILDEXGS AND 

WHBaiB MAN'S WORK. IT IS HARD TO TEI>L " 

[ Page 195 ] 



THE HEART OF FRANCE 

and the cool observation that the Dnke looked larger 
dead than he had alive, the coward turned away and 
went to report the affair to his mother, Catherine 
de Medici, with, no doubt, the very air and manner 
of little Jack Homer's famous " What a brave boy 
am I/' 

In a neighboring room the King's chaplain was 
meanwhile diligently saying mass and praying as he 
had been ordered to do, that God would " give to the 
King grace to be able to execute an enterprise which 
he hopes to complete within an hour and on which 
depends the well-being of France." 

One becomes so lost at Blois in. the crowds of royal 
names and the history of bloody deeds, the endless 
ermines, and porcupines, and salamanders, and loops 
of knotted cord, that one forgets all about a simple 
woman-child of seventeen who in 1429, newly given 
by her King the title and powers of General-in-Chief 
of the Armies of France, came here from Chinon on 
her march to Orleans. 

Here she stayed three days, and here it was that she 
converted that fierce old soldier. La Hire, " that 
abandoned refuse of perdition," from the error of 
his ways, to such an extent that he attended mass 
and later prayed before her that famous impromptu 
prayer, so often wrongly attributed to others : '' Fair 

[265] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

Sir God, I pray you to do by La Hire, as lie would 
do by you, if you were La Hire, and be were God." 
Tbe tbougbt of tbe scene is like a fresb little oasis 
in tbe desert of beartless and Godless acts wbicb tbe 
very name of Blois calls up. 

Tbe wbole Cbateau is beautiful and interesting 
and bas been tbe scene of many festivities, mucb 
despair, of frequent revelry, plotting and crime, but 
over it all pours now tbe peaceful sunsbine, and 
tbrougb tbe big council rooms, boudoirs, and cor- 
ridors trail tbe crowds of tourists, wbile on tbese 
modem cbatterers tbe old carved salamanders look 
down witb as stony and indifferent a stare as tbey 
did at tbose otbers in an age long gone. 

Tbe tbing tbat was most striking to us was tbe 
complete cbange, due, of course, to tbe introduction 
of artillery, in tbe spirit of tbese Eenaissance 
cbateaux from tbat of tbe older noble dwellings 
wbicb we bad just been seeing. Here it is an archi- 
tecture of security and tranquillity, not of tbe danger 
and uncertainty of more warlike times. Tbe 
cbateaux, like tbe people, seem to bave become filled 
witb more of gaiety, ease and refinement, and tbe 
grim barrenness of more savage parts and periods is 
noticeably lacking. 

Tbe Cbateau of Blois bas been very mucb restored, 

[266] 



THE HEART OF FRANCE 

quite too much, we thought. There is such a wealth 
of red and blue paint, and gilt, and everything is, 
in some way, so entirely unlivable, that it is no 
wonder the old occupants had to take to mischief to 
keep from realizing their surroundings, if they really 
were so staringly hideous and so unrestful as they 
are now. l^o two decorations are alike. Even the 
great fancy fireplaces look tawdry and uninviting. 

After leaving the castle we took the auto and ran 
out about eighteen miles to Chambord, another royal 
residence and probably the largest and the most 
peculiar of them all. 

It was begun in 1526 by Francis I and is yet un- 
finished, though eighteen hundred workmen were em- 
ployed for twelve years on it. It is a huge affair 
having more than four hundred and forty rooms, 
thirteen full-grown staircases and many little secret 
ones, as well as the great double staircase of a hun- 
dred and eighty-six steps, which is the most curious 
feature of the whole building. It is so constructed 
that parties may go up and down without meeting — 
a bald description, this, which does scant justice to 
what is really a marvellous architectural work. The 
more we looked at the double spiral, the less we com- 
prehended it, and the time-honored joke that says 
something about, " when you are going up you meet 

[267] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

yourself coming back/' was very much to the fore, 
for now at last most of our fellow tourists were our 
own countrymen, and their humor was familiar to us. 

The roof is a fascinating place — a mass of towers, 
chimneys, turrets, and pinnacles, crowned by a great 
stone lantern, which is very effective. The whole ex- 
terior is indescribably odd, resembling nothing on 
earth but the Coronado Beach Hotel at San Diego, 
California, though inside the comparison fails ut- 
terly, for Chambord is a wilderness of bareness, 
echoing halls and corridors, and empty, lifeless rooms. 

Though vast sums of money have been spent here, 
the surrounding country is unattractive, flat, sandy, 
unromantic, more like an excellent factory sight, 
than a place for a royal pleasure dome. However, it 
was to be within convenient reach of good hunting 
and also where he could bask in the radiant smiles of 
the Countess of Thoury, that Erancis I chose the 
spot. The walls of the park of the Chateau are 
twenty-one miles in circumference, but the place is 
of little charm, though originally the effect must have 
been much finer, before the moat was filled up, and 
the drawbridge, portcullis, and battlements removed. 
It is said that the district was so marshy when the 
chateau was built that the piling alone, necessary 
for its construction, cost three hundred thousand 

[268] 



THE HEART OF FRAJSTCE 

francs. We did not stay more than a couple of 
hours, but returned through a quiet farming country 
past the Chateau of Chevemy, " a light, sweet man- 
sion," and the more imposing Chateau of Beaure- 
gard, both unfortunately closed, and reached Blois 
in time for dinner. 



[269] 



CHAPTEE XX 

BLOIS TO TOUES 

SATISFIED with our stay, we left next morn- 
ing, first, for tlie well-hidden Chateau of Berry, 
built in 1515 by an unknown Italian architect, and 
then on through Onzain and across the river to 
Chaumont, where to our sorrow, we found only closed 
doors, and all we could see was a glimpse of the 
towers rising through the trees. 

This chateau dates in part from the tenth century 
and is a lordly pile well placed on a height above 
the river, and the views from its windows and courts 
must be particularly lovely. We were sorry not to 
see it, especially as it is furnished, but we had to 
pocket our disappointment and continue beside the 
river over a perfect road to Amboise, a few miles 
farther on, where we drew up for luncheon at another 
Hotel of the Golden Lion, almost under the eaves of 
the castle, which looks more like a huge lump of 
carved ivory than a thing of rock and mortar 
centuries old. 

From the bridge which spans the brown, slow 

[270] 



BLOIS TO TOURS 

flood, the castle is wonderfully beautiful. There is 
an enormous round tower and a mass of balconies, 
crenelations, and turrets and the effect, half war- 
like, half peaceful, is wholly entrancing. 

We ascended a short distance and entered the 
eastle grounds from the rear, thus coming almost at 
once upon the exquisite chapel of St. Hubert, built 
for Anne of Brittany. It is very tiny, but so rich 
with gargoyles, traceried windows, lacy carving, and 
all the architectural and artistic charms of the florid 
Gothic style, that all tourists are enchanted by it. 
Over the entrance is a carving in high relief, " the 
conversion of St. Hubert " — the sacred stag with the 
Crucifix springing from his head, St. Hubert kneel- 
ing in awe, St. Christopher and St. Anthony looking 
on in amazement; the whole story is there, and is 
wonderfully executed. 

This castle is empty, but it conveys no such im- 
pression of bleakness as does Chambord. In the 
tower of the Minimes is a wide inclined plain which 
served for a stairway and up which Charles V and his 
courtiers rode on horseback when he came in 1539 
to visit Francis I. The view from the top would 
have well repaid them if they had made the ascent 
on their knees instead. This was probably one of 
the most brilliant moments in the annals of the 

[ 271 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

historic old castle; the blackest occurred when, in 
1660, a plot was discovered by which the Huguenots 
proposed to remove the youthful Francis II and his 
bride, Mary Queen of Scots, from what they felt, 
of course, to be the evil influences of the Guises and 
the Medicis. Catherine de Medici when she learned 
of the plot had twelve hundred of the Huguenots 
butchered in the presence of the Court, and the young 
couple were obliged to be present and afterward to 
look upon the swaying bodies whose (supposed) 
blood stains are still shown where they hung from 
the balcony. 

Poor young man, so soon to die himself, and still 
more pitiful girl-queen, it is to be hoped that then 
and there she grew accustomed to the sight of run- 
ning blood, for her whole life was to be spattered 
with it before, in the end, her own was to be shed, 
by another indomitable royal woman. 

At the end of the garden which now is pretty with 
arbors of lime trees, but which, according to Philippe 
de Comines used to be the " nastiest " place about 
the castle, is a low stone doorway, against which in 
1498 Charles YIII, then a young man, and the 
husband of Anne of Brittany, while hurrying 'to 
watch a game of tennis, struck his head with such 

[272] 



BLOIS TO TOURS 

force as to cause his death within a few hours. Over 
the door is a carved porcupine, the emblem of Louis 
XII. The poor beast looks frayed and moth-eaten, 
and his quills are standing painfully erect, probably 
with disgust at the doubtful taste which could have 
lead Anne's second husband to have his device 
sculptured over that particular place. From the 
walls and tower of the castle, on a fair day one can 
see the spires of the Cathedral of Tours, for Amboise 
is about midway between Blois and Tours. 

After seeing the castle we took the machine and ran 
out some seven miles to Chenonceaux. This royal 
chateau is the most home-like of them all. It is 
small and dainty and distinctly a place for happy 
people to live a life of pleasure and content. It lies 
deep in the quiet of fragrant meadows and we came 
to it through a long avenue of trees, their filtering 
shadows, green rather than gray, and the faint duski- 
ness lighted now and then by the slow dropping of 
a golden leaf. First of all we passed a round tower, 
a relic of an earlier building, and now given over to 
the ever-present post-card and souvenir shop, but 
the main fagade is only a few steps farther and the 
eye embraces the whole in one sweep, — the old 
tower, the airy chateau, trees, gardens, high-floating 
18 [ 273 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

clouds and the gently flowing river Cher, across whicli 
Catherine de Medici threw one whole wing of the 
building. 

It is a place to love, and we felt sorrj for Diane 
de Poitiers, to whom Henry II gave it, when we re- 
membered that as soon as he was dead, Catherine 
coolly forced her to retire to Chaumont, and herself 
assumed control here. To be honest, however, the 
really unique and charming feature, the two-story 
gallery, which crosses the stream, like a dainty 
maid on stepping stones, is Catherine's work, and 
Chaumont was at that time undoubtedly much the 
grander residence; also, Catherine certainly had had 
provocation. 

The chateau was founded in 1496, or, as some say, 
in 1515, by Thomas Bohier, a Receiver-Greneral of 
!N'ormandy, but his son was obliged to give it up to the 
crown to offset certain shortages in his father's ac- 
counts. It was one of the favorite royal residences 
until 1730, when it was sold, to Monsieur Claude Du- 
pin, who, with his charming wife, held here a little 
court of their friends, and in the hands of this cul- 
tured family it remained for a hundred years. 

It is now owned, we were told, by the Thierry 
family, and during their absence is shown to visitors. 

[274] 



BLOIS TO TOURS 

The inside, while fumislied in old and suitable 
furniture, is not particularly interesting, except for 
the great kitchens which are in one of the stone piers 
in the river, which originally supported a mill, when 
Eohier saw the place and realized, first, its possi- 
bilities of beauty. The two long galleries crossing 
the river are thoroughly dull, but the flickering light 
from the water ripples over floor and walls and 
gives a grace and lightness even to the old white busts 
and makes them live again. 

But the charm of the place is felt mostly from 
the outside and a little below the chateau, where 
from either bank of the river, the water shows a 
marvellous reflection of the arches of the gallery, 
and where one can watch fish and clouds and bits of 
grasses float with the quiet current, in a tranquil 
picture not easily to be matched, even in this, the 
fairest section of the " pleasant land of France." 

From Chenonceaux we returned to Amboise and 
there rested for the night, starting in the morning for 
Loches, a run of perhaps twenty-four miles. 

All this Loire Valley is a veritable paradise for 
the motorist. The roads are beyond criticism, and 
the hotels, while lacking the charm of more remote 
hostelries, are good, and English is spoken in almost 

[275] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

all of them. The proprietors understand the wishes 
and habits of tourists and everything possible is 
done to please them. Of course, the prices are 
higher than in less frequented localities, but still 
are very reasonable to one accustomed to rates in 
America. For people who have but a short time for 
motoring abroad, Normandy and the chateau country 
are the places to visit. They are easily accessible, 
garage and auto supplies numerous, the weather 
generally fair, and the runs short, every mile abound- 
ing in picturesque views, historic places, well-kept 
fields, and little intimate sights which make tour- 
ing here the greatest delight. Under such condi- 
tions, the little trip to Loches was all too short, and 
yet it was the distance between the twelfth and 
fifteenth centuries. 

Loches arose, as so many old-world cities did, 
around a monastery, and by the sixth century boasted 
a castle, though probably not nearly so large as the 
eleventh-century one which is seen to-day, and which 
grew gradually until in its palmy days it covered 
the whole top of the hill and its wall and moat, 
mostly still preserved, were a mile and a quarter 
long. 

We arrived shortly before luncheon, but immedi- 
ately thereafter started out to see the sights. The 

[276] 



BLOIS TO TOURS 

first of these is the old church, but it does not amount 
to anything. In the Chateau Eoyal is the little ora- 
tory of Anne of Brittany, with its oft-repeated design 
of the ermine and the festooned cord, and below one 
of the towers lies the calm figure of Agnes Sorel above 
her tomb, though the painful fact is that during the 
Revolution her remains were destroyed. The statue 
is of white marble, and has two angels at the head 
and two lambs at the feet; in this case, no doubt, a 
tribute to the meaning of her name, as well as a token 
of her peaceful death. It is odd to think of this 
openly avowed mistress of Charles YII and of the 
child-like Maid of Domremy, each doing her ut- 
most to put enough backbone into the invertebrate 
Charles to get him to fight for his own country, but 
it certainly took their combined efforts to bring about 
results. 

The Donjon and Martelet, however, are more than 
usually full of interest and the guide who showed 
them to us deserves to rank with Irving, for his real- 
istic rendition of the tragic scenes and stories in which 
the place abounds made the shivers creep over us 
more than once. He would throw himself against 
a wall, grasp a heavy iron collar, seem to fasten it 
around his neck, and then gradually sink to the floor, 
explaining to us, how, after perhaps thirty-six hours 

[277] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

of torture, the victim would drop exhausted and the 
great collar would break his neck. 

Once he took us into a particularly loathsome cell 
and explained how in the olden times a prisoner 
would be thrust in here and left in total darkness, 
whereupon, of course, he would start out to grope 
about the walls (here the guide grew more and more 
intensely dramatic and went shuffling fearfully 
about) until suddenly a great hole, now closed up, 
would open under his feet and with a cry the poor 
fellow would be precipitated into some horrible pit 
far below ; " and then," said the guide, " the governor 
of the prison would report in due season to the King 
that so-and-so had died in prison, and the King, with 
a polite shrug, would observe, ^ Unfortunate,' and 
the incident would be closed." 

Down in the main part of the tower of the Marte- 
let, one below another, the unspeakable cells descend 
into the blackness and the chill silence of the living 
rock. Where a tiny ray of light could penetrate, we 
saw a rude sun-dial cut into the wall and a number 
of rough pictures, made by Ludovico Sforza, Duke 
of Milan, during his ten-years' imprisonment. In 
the cell of the bishops are fourteen faint stations 
of the cross, and the holes by which the victims 
climbed the wall to cling for a few moments on 

[2Y8] 



H 
> 

Hi > 

: O 





BLOIS TO TOURS 

bright days where they could catch a ray of sun- 
light. There is one veritable chamber of horrors, 
with a great fireplace, in which used to be heated 
the torture irons, for the question ordinary and ex- 
traordinary. How the tongues of flame must have 
lighted up the awesome room, and what agony 
must they have brought out on the faces of the 
victims ! 

It is in the grim Tour Ronde that the main inter- 
est of the castle centres, and it has been either one of 
the most terrible prisons of Europe or one of the most 
maligned. The prisons range from dungeons several 
stories below the ground to the most familiar cell of 
all, in which hung for eleven years the four-foot 
square cage which contained Cardinal Jean de la 
Balue. 

This story is curtailed to three years by some ; by 
some others it is thought that the Cardinal was 
confined at Onzain, never at Loches, but some way 
at Loches we were perfectly able to believe that it 
was here and that it was a full eleven years. The 
holes can yet be seen in which rested the supports 
of the cage, which hung there while obscure Co- 
lumbus was still studying over the probability of a 
short route to India. The guide showed us how 
the cage could be lowered and raised at the pleasure 

[279] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

of Louis XI, and called our attentiou to a narrow 
staircase down which the tormentor and his coad- 
jutor, Tristan THermite, used to come to jeer at the 
Cardinal, the King urging Tristan occasionally to 
^' further agitate his Eminence," by twisting or 
jerking the cage, perhaps. 'Now and then the King 
even sent for the prisoner, it is said, to play chess 
with him, and when the game was over would pop 
him back in his cage until next he should be wanted. 
It is a horrible account, and in its main features is 
undoubtedly true, and yet the Cardinal was a traitor 
caught red-handed, in an attempt to sell out the King, 
and in the judgment of those savage days, no doubt 
the punishment was felt most delicately to " fit the 
crime." 

Loches seems a more unbelievably cruel place than 
almost any other. !N'owhere else does man's in- 
humanity to man seem so incredibly devilish, so 
well thought out, so painstakingly prepared, and so 
relentlessly carried to completion. 

There are other blood-curdling things and places, 
but these are enough to remember and we were glad 
to come out into the fresh air of the courtyard and 
gather horse chestnuts from the huge old tree which 
Francis I planted there, almost four hundred years 
ago. The view of the surrounding country is pleas- 

[280] 



BLOIS TO TOURS 

ant in a quiet way, though the Indre is not so stately a 
stream as the Loire. 

The old town across the river, Beaulieu, looks at- 
tractive and is said to contain some very picturesque 
old houses. Of these also, Loches has excellent ex- 
amples, some very richly decorated, but after a lit- 
tle longer roaming about the town we started on for 
Tours, where we were again hoping for satisfactory 
steamship reports. 

We wound through the valley of the Indre about 
thirteen miles, then stopped to enjoy the gray remains 
of the eighth-century Benedictine Abbey at Cormery, 
after which we went on again through smaller roads, 
evidently not much frequented by autoists, to Mont- 
bazon, a dreamy old village commanded by the great 
square keep of a mediaeval castle with a hideous, 
modem Madonna on top, which is enough to " make 
the judicious grieve." 

We have seen in America tan shoes worn with a 
dress suit, and been glad that only our own country- 
men were there to observe the sight, but it was 
purely a personal ignorance and by no means so bad 
as these Virgins, perched up on all sorts of unsuitable 
and absurd pinnacles all over France, or so inappro- 
priate as the trifling iron crosses, which, no doubt, a 
deep religious sentiment, but certainly a total lack 

[281] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

of humor and sense of tlie fitness of things, allows 
to disfigure the obelisks of an older civilization in 
otherwise impressive Rome to-daj. 

The afternoon was still by no means spent when 
we arrived at Tours, and after crossing the Loire, 
stopped to ask directions, to the ruins (now almost 
gone) of Plessis les Tours, described in Scott's 
^^ Quentin Durward." 

It seemed to take a little time to get the desired 
information, and, to talk more courteously, we got 
out of the car, and thereby discovered a broken and 
trailing strut rod. It had happened between Corm- 
ery and Tours, but just where we did not know. At 
one© we explained our situation to the man with 
whom we were talking, and asked him to direct us, 
instead, to a reliable garage, which he did, naming 
one, fortunately near at hand. Inside of three 
minutes we drew up before the door of the place and 
asked if they could repair us at once. They said 
that it would take not more than an hour, so we left 
the auto and went by street-car for our mail — a 
fruitless errand, and returned before long, to find 
the work almost done, and the fine-looking young pro- 
prietor inspecting the machine with interest. 

While the men visited in smiling sign-language 
over the car, the dainty little lady took Madame into 

[ 282 ] 



1 



BLOIS TO TOURS 

her house, which adjoined the garage, and showed 
her English grammar and an exercise book, in which 
she had evolved an ingenious system for learning the 
many confusing prepositions, which she said puzzled 
her more than longer words. She had drawn a pic- 
ture of a cage with a bird in it, and under the bird in 
large letters had written the illuminating word " IN." 
There was also a-bird under the cage, one on the cage, 
one flying io or toward the cage, one going out of 
the cage, one beside the cage, etc., etc., till the whole 
page looked as if it were ready to take to itself wings 
and fly away. She was very anxious to learn Eng- 
lish to be helpful in her husband's business, and her 
diligence and industry deserved the reward which 
doubtless they have begun to bring. 

Very soon Monsieur came to say that the rod was 
finished, and then and there we paid the only money 
which we laid out in actual repairs on the car during 
the whole trip of thirty-four hundred miles. The 
cost was 58 cents and cheap enough we thought it. 
The work was well done and when we now see that in- 
conspicuous strut rod, there comes to us a vision of 
the hopeful, hard-working young couple and the 
bright little woman with her aviary of prepositions, 
and we wish that they may both, as dear old Joe 
Jefferson put it, " live long and prosper." 

[283] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

By this time we thought it wise to be on our way 
toward our pretty room at the Golden Lion again, 
for we had left our belongings at Amboise, intending 
to stay there one more night, so, leaving Tours, a 
slowly fading blot on the green and gold of the sun- 
set, we rode smoothly along, beside the glistening 
river, past more rock dwellings and quaint contented 
villages, over a road humpy from too much traffic, 
and back once more, just as the dusk was falling, to 
our very comfortable hotel, in the shadow of the 
blood-stained old chateau. 



[284] 



CHAPTEK XXI 

TOUBS 1.ANGEAIS AZAY LE EIDBAXJ CHINON 

ANGEKS 

IT was a chilly morning, so our ride back to Tours 
was not so pleasant as the one had been coming 
out, but it was made quickly and we went, with hope 
renewed to the Hotel du Faisan, and asked for a room 
and for our mail. The former they gave us promptly 
and gladly, but as to the latter, they were powerless. 

Feeling decidedly down, we went to a steamship 
office and had them wire to every line sailing from 
Havre, Cherbourg, or any English port, even adding 
that we would consider second cabin. This last we 
were constrained to do as the papers were telling of 
wealthy Americans who were glad to go home in the 
steerage, so great was the rush to get back. To be 
frank, we did not believe these stories, but the reports 
that we heard at the hotel and everywhere were, to 
say the least, very discouraging. 

When we had set the wheels in motion we went to 
see the sights, beginning with the cathedral. It is 

[ 285 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

gray and venerable and has two tall towers, any 
amount of elaborate carving and some old and valu- 
able stained glass, but, for all these, it manages to 
fall just short of attractiveness. It is poorly situated 
and seems in some way to have lost faith in itself. It 
carried no conviction to us, nor any desire to stay 
long in it or to return for a second visit. 

Tours is very old — in fact, it joined the league 
under Vercingetorix against Caesar, in 52 B. C, and 
has had a lively history, the most important event be- 
ing without doubt the battle of Tours, fought be- 
tween here and Poitiers, in 732, when Charles Martel 
hurled back the advancing power of the Saracens and 
thereby saved Europe to Christianity. 

But all these things considered. Tours offers very 
little to the would-be sight-seer. There is the old 
house of Tristan THermite, called the House of the 
Hanged, which dates from the fifteenth century and 
whose front still bears huge nails as memorials of the 
executions which took place there. There are- the 
Tower of St. Martin and the Tower of Charlemagne, 
relics of the old basilica of St. Martin, a museum^ 
and a number of unimportant churches and practi- 
cally nothing else worthy of time and strength. For 
a city of sixty-five thousand it seems dull, and to our 
minds could never for a moment rank with Amboise 

[286] 



TOURS— ANGERS 

as a centre from whicii to visit the neighboring places 
of interest. 

Evidently, however, we are in a painful minority 
in this opinion, for there is a large floating and resi- 
dent English-speaking population, due, no doubt, to 
the claim, stoutly maintained, that here French is 
spoken with greater purity than anywhere in France. 
As to that, we are hardly qualified to say; sweet 
it certainly is, and exceedingly different from that 
which we had heard in the south; less sluggish than 
that of the east, and less metallic than the speech of 
the Capital, to which we personally prefer it 

After getting the steamship agent's report in the 
morning, which did not seem very hopeful, but was 
inconclusive, we started on for Angers, where he was 
to wire us the next day. 

It was a lovely morning and we were but a few 
minutes in reaching Luynes, our first stopping place. 
The chateau can be seen from the road, but deserves 
a visit, at least a nearer inspection. It is not large, 
but has an excellent position on a little elevation 
overlooking the river, and seems older than it is, as 
it only dates from the fifteenth and sixteenth cen- 
turies, for all it looks so very grim and defendable. 

Along the front there is a belt of noble towers, 
with cone-shaped tops, and loophole windows, but in 

[287] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

the courtyard are buildings still habitable and at- 
tractive, which are of the seventeenth century. The 
Duchy was formerly the property of Charles Albert 
de Luynes, favorite minister and keeper of the seals 
under Louis XIIL 

Beyond Luynes a few kilometres, in plain sight 
from the road, is a queer solid tower, ninety feet 
high, with four small pyramids on the top. It seems 
a particularly useless thing, and nothing is certainly 
known of its purpose, or even of its date, though it 
is thought to be of Roman origin. 

Near it are the remains of two large round towers, 
once part of the Chateau of Henry de Ruze, Marquis 
de Cinq Mars, the favorite of Louis XIII, whose 
death Hichelieu brought about in Lyons in 1642. 
The story is familiar from De Vigny's book of the 
same title, but there the young marquis is hardly 
given credit for the real character and courage which 
he must have had, for the manner of his death was 
such as to bring no shame to the decaying old chateau. 
From Cinq Mars to Langeais is only a few kilo- 
metres, and we reached there just in time for a good 
luncheon at another of those Golden Lions, of which 
France is so prolific. 

The Chateau of Langeais is a gem, one of the 
finest examples of French military architecture. It 

[288] 



TOURS— ANGERS 

marks the transition from the fortress to the palatial 
residence, and was begmi by a barber of Louis XI, 
though finished by a later owner. The angles of its 
exterior wall are guarded by huge towers and the 
effect from the front is very warlike and imposing, 
with drawbridge and portcullis and high gray walls. 
Inside is a court, with charming lawns and flower 
beds, which must be only a constant aggravation to 
the family who occupy the castle but do not dare to 
brave the publicity of the gardens. 

Some say that a Paris millionaire owns the 
chateau, others insist that it is the property of the 
State. In any case it is richly furnished in antique 
fashion, as nearly as possible in a manner suitable 
to the period of the building, and is shown graciously 
to the public. 

Here it was that Anne of Brittany was married, 
at seventeen, to Charles VIII, thus uniting the last 
outstanding State to the crown, and the large room 
was really the more interesting when the guide told 
us of the ceremony here, for by now we had seen so 
much that was associated with the royal couple that 
we began to feel a friendly interest in them. 

The whole chateau, from the lovely gardens to the 
savage old chemin de ronde high up on the big tower, 
is keenly interesting, and no one, we feel sure, can 
1& [ 289 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

fail of a sense of gratitude to those who hold it so 
generously for the pleasure of the public. 

Again and again as we walked through, the guide 
gave a peculiar knock before unlocking a room, and 
when we entered a moving drapery or the creak of a 
smaller door, told of some one's hasty exit. In no 
single room did we see two chairs drawn up as if for 
a friendly chat, no cat or dog or modern novel, no 
bit of unfinished f ancywork, nor any one of the per- 
sonal and comfortable disorders of daily home life, 
and we were doubly appreciative of our privileges 
when the guide told us that just at present there were 
guests in the house. 

What an odd visit it must be, what a memory of 
exquisite bits seen through high, narrow windows, of 
nights in curtained beds, of time-darkened old ar- 
mories, illumined missals, dim Venetian mirrors, 
long, winding stone stairways, and echoing corri- 
dors, and of every now and then, a sudden flight 
and a breathless wait behind some fluttering, fad- 
ing arras, while babbling tourists marvelled in differ- 
ent languages at the curious surroundings of every- 
day life. 

We enjoyed Langeais particularly well, and were 
almost sorry when it was time to go on to Azay le 
Eideau. At once, on leaving, we crossed the Loire 

[290] 



TOURS— ANGERS 

and soon the Indre, and after about five miles came 
to Azay, the pearl of Touraine. 

With most tourists this chateau undoubtedly is 
the prime favorite, though it is neither large nor im- 
posing, hoary with age, nor dark with historic blood- 
stains. It is simply wholly charming. It rises di- 
rectly from the Indre, which serves it as moat, and 
on one side laps the very walls. The effect is one 
of great elaboration of detail; there are carven 
chimneys and dormer windows laden with imagery, 
and a projecting entablature which imitates a row 
of machicolations, and turrets with sharp graceful 
finales, everywhere. 

It is the typical Eenaissance chateau at its best. 
Studying it, we realized clearly the great change 
which had been brought about by the introduction of 
artillery. This mined the old feudal chateau; it 
broke the faith of the nobles in their strong walls, 
as the increasing pressure of kingly might had broken 
their own power, and they resigned themselves 1;here- 
after to the situation and built no longer castles which 
were strongholds for defence, but houses to live in 
and enjoy. The campaigns under Charles YII in 
Italy had shown them how beautiful homes might be, 
and they thereupon made their own as attractive as 
they could, often employing Italian artists and archi- 
tects to help them. 

[291] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

Either thej built new residences or they remodelled 
the old ones often retaining, or erecting, donjon and 
comer towers, of greatly reduced size, and mock- 
machicolations, as symbols of their former power. 
Loopholes became traceried windows, pinnacles and 
light tourelles assumed the place of massive towers, 
old curtain walls grew into gorgeously and delicately 
decorated fagades, stone corbels changed into bal- 
conies, stony courtyards to parks and gardens, and 
gradually the whole aspect was altered. 

Surrounding Azay there is a large park, not too 
well kept up to be attractive, where the silence was 
broken only by the tinkle of winding streamlets or 
the twitter of birds in the over-arching trees. The 
vines rioting over the rustic bridge by which we left 
the chateau, were aflame with vivid reds and yel- 
lows, the river loitered lovingly over its long grasses, 
and there seemed a hush and sense of solitude over 
everything. Surely no fairer place or more secluded 
could be found to enshrine a monarch's loves. It was 
more like the palace of the sleeping beauty, than a 
show place, where thousands and thousands of hurry- 
ing sight-seers pause annually in their rush to see as 
much as possible in the all too short holidays of 
their busy lives. 

How long we would willingly have stayed in this 

[ 292 ] 



TOURS— ANGERS 

enchanting Loire country, and particularly at Lan- 
geais and Azay, we cannot tell, but the afternoon was 
well along and Angers still sixty miles away, so we 
felt that we must be moving. 

The first part of our way lay through the national 
forest of Chinon, over a road frankly marked on the 
map as in bad condition, but it was so direct (only 
nineteen kilometres) that we agreed to chance it and 
found it not very bad, only hilly — or, as the books 
say, accidentee, 

Chinon is on the little river Yienne, and the gray 
old ruins frown down in right lordly fashion. There 
are really three fortresses, the oldest, the Chateau de 
Coudray, dating from the tenth century. The site 
was originally occupied by a Roman camp, later 
by the Visigoths, and the present castle fell to the 
Counts of Touraine, and later to Henry II of Eng- 
land, who liked it the best of all his continental 
possessions and who died here in 1189. 

There is a full measure of war, hunger, rapine, 
blood, and fire in the history of the old castle, but its 
supreme moment occurred, no doubt, when on March 
8, 1429, in the blaze of two hundred and fifty 
torches, and heralded at each fifty feet of her prog- 
ress by the silvery notes of trumpeters, Joan of Arc, 
simply clad in the dress now preserved in the Musee 

[293] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

at Orleans, walked between lines of courtiers and 
ladies, to where the King, Charles VII (though then 
uncrowned) stood among his gentlemen, and, disre- 
garding the man masquerading on the throne, fell on 
her knees before the rightful monarch, to the amaze- 
ment of all who beheld her. 

The King, as much bewildered as any one, asked: 
" Who are you and what would you ? " and she re- 
plied, " I am called Joan the Maid, and am sent to 
to say that the King of Heaven wills that you be 
crowned and consecrated in your good city of Hheims 
and he willeth also that you set me at my appointed 
work and give me men at arms. For then will I 
raise the siege of Orleans and break the English 
power." The King was so impressed that he 
granted her request, and two months from that day 
she forced the English to retire, an event which is 
still celebrated on May seventh and eighth in Orleans. 

"Not only are the ruins interesting, but the quaint 
old town also is fascinating, but we could not delay 
long, and continued rapidly to Le Port Boulet, where 
we crossed the Loire again, and twenty kilometres 
further paused to enjoy the fine view of Saumur, 
climbing slowly from the quaint old houses on the 
river front to the castle on the height, all massed 
blackly against the glowing gold of the sunset. 

[294] 



TOURS— ANGERS 

Saumur is another town which grew up about a 
monastery and its history is that of religions rise and 
fall. Angered at the usurpations of the abbeys, the 
town early embraced Protestantism and of course 
suffered severely after the revocation of the Edict of 
Nantes. A celebrated school of cavalry in recent 
years has done much for it, as have also its manu- 
factories of rosaries, but it has never recovered. 

As there is little to see of importance, and as the 
castle though old, is greatly modernized and now 
serves as an arsenal, we contented ourselves with ad- 
miring it from across the long bridge, and then ran 
on without accident or incident the forty-four re- 
maining kilometres, most of them beside the rippling 
river, to Angers, where, after plenty of difficulty in 
finding our way through the tangled streets, we drew 
up, thoroughly chilled and just at dusk, at the Grand 
Hotel, and here before we left we discovered that we 
had made a great mistake. The meals were excel- 
lent, but there are other considerations, and in re- 
gard to them, we cannot refrain from the one comment 
that they are outrageous. Baedeker says the hotel is 
*Vell spoken of,'' but we cannot imagine by whom; 
certainly by no one who has ever been there or who 
cares for the modem conveniences and decencies of 
life. 

[295] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

IsText morning we went for our mail and found the 
discouraging word from Tours that we could get noth- 
ing on any boat but second-class on the French Line 
from Havre. This we promptly declined, for we 
had a distinct prejudice against that line at best and 
could by no means bring ourselves to accept its 
second-class accommodations. 

However, there was no use worrying, so we for- 
got our trouble as best we could and set forth to find 
the old castle, stopping on our way to see the 
cathedral and the ruined abbey church of Toussaint. 
Both are perfect in their way, the latter especially 
fascinating, but we were not in the mood for that 
kind of sight-seeing and soon went on, interrupting 
ourselves again to admire the exquisite workmanship 
of the bronze statue of King Eene near the chateau. 
Finally we did reach the great old fortress, and after 
going to the three wrong sides, ultimately found the 
entrance, and the guide who conducted us through as 
conscientiously as if there were really anything of in- 
terest to be seen in it. 

The castle is very old, and very large, and warlike 
looking, even though Henry III, after he took it, 
levelled many of its seventeen towers. These, huge 
and black, with their white stone bands and the 
massive connecting walls guiltless of battlements or 

[296] 



TOURS— ANGERS 

loopHoles, make a deep impression on the beholder, 
seeming the very spirit of the Middle Ages personi- 
fied. The grimness and impregnability of it left us 
speechless, at first, with a sensation of awe which 
the disappointing interior did not entirely dissipate. 
Angers is very interesting, theoretically, being the 
capital city of England's Plantagenet line, as well as 
the scene of horrible wars of religion at a later date. 
As a matter of fact, however, it has been spoiled by 
the modem improvements. There are still obscure 
bits which retain the charm for which the traveller 
longs, but they are few and far between, and in the 
main the city is a disappointment ; one day is enough 
to see it all. The " Black Angers '' of one's dreams 
is no more, and the painful truth dawned upon us that 
that most alluring cognomen had reference not to 
any depth of ignorance nor moral depravity, not 
even to the crowded and gloomy condition of its 
streets, but simply and solely to the great amount of 
slate used in the buildings; here every roof is as 
black as in Rothenburg they were red, and the effect 
is grim and dour, in spite of the modernization and 
the tasteless squares and boulevards, which have, of 
course, greatly altered the original appearance. 



[297] 



CHAPTER XXII 

MONT ST. MICHEL Aiq^D FALAISE 

WE were glad to leave Angers the next morn- 
ing, for our disappointment in not being 
able to make our reservation bome and tbe worry in- 
cident thereto, seemed to urge us forward, and we 
passed once more beneath the black walls of its sullen 
castle, crossed the bridge over the Maine and took the 
road for Laval, rather willingly than otherwise. 

The country was beautifully farmed, prosperous 
and fertile, and we saw cattle, horses, and sheep of 
fine quality and in large numbers, also immense 
white sows, built like racers and seeming about 
four feet high by six inches wide. Everything was 
green and orderly in the villages and in the country 
between, and orchards of apples which produce the fa- 
mous cider began to appear. 

We had been at Laval before; it was merely on 
the way to somewhere to-day, whose exact destina- 
tion we did not determine until we were at luncheon. 
We pulled into a well-remembered street naturally 
commenting on our former visit, when we had seen 

[ 298 ] 



MONT ST. MICHEL AND FALAISE 

the chateau and the few sights which the town pos- 
sesses, and went on at once to a hotel, where w© found 
a number of cars drawn up. While eating we de- 
cided to go to Mont St. Michel for the night, as we 
were told that the tide there was high and the 
season low. 

We had visited the Mount before, but had left in 
disgust because of the crowded condition of the hotels, 
and the distressing manners of the middle-class 
Erenchmen who filled everything, and now we hoped 
under happier circumstances that we should be able 
to forget this first disastrous impression, of one of 
the most beautiful sights in Europe. 

It does not take long to act on newly made plans 
when travelling by auto; we calmly finished our 
luncheon, got out the map covering the district to 
be travelled, inquired the way out of town and were 
off. 

This is one of the most difficult parts of motoring 
abroad, the getting out of the towns, for the directions 
in the guide books are meagre, and the streets 
crooked and narrow, many of them not indicated at 
all on the books, and except at hotels or garages, 
it is often troublesome to find grown persons who 
can give the desired information; still a small boy 
is generally available, and gladly mounts the run- 

[299] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

ning board and points the way, seeming by instinct 
to know exactly what is wanted. 

As we neared the sea, the land took on a less fertile 
aspect and the air had a touch of salt in it. There 
is a long causeway which connects the Mount with the 
land, and we knew there would be no garage at the 
other end, so left the car and went on the short re- 
maining distance by a little tram, enjoying every 
moment, every view, the salt of the air, and the 
desolate waste of sand on either side of the dike. 
The whole country, land and sea, for miles about, 
seemed dominated by the ancient abbey, which 
towered ^ve hundred feet in the air, and seemed at 
first hardly more than a purple haze on the horizon, 
and, as we approached it, grew in size, majesty, and 
beauty till at last it rose, impressive, overpowering, 
enduring, and strong as the centuries which it has 
withstood and yet almost ethereal in its loveliness, 
dwindling all the way from its rocky base to the 
gilded statue of the arch-angel on the topmost pin- 
nacle, a veritable castle of dreams. 

We found the place practically deserted, and were 
delighted; save for a sense of quiet, everything 
seemed much as it had been when we were there 
before, doubtless in the main as it has been for 
hundreds of years. We walked about oh the old ram- 

[300] 




THE TRANQUIL RIVER, THE LONG LOW FERRY. AND — THE 
LEFT FRONT WHEEL OF THE AUTO " 



[ Page 206 ] 




" THE WALLS FORM A RECTANGLE SIX HUNDRED YARDS LONG 
AND ONE ETUNDRED AND FIFTY WIDE " 



[ Page 208 1 



MONT ST. MICHEL AND FALAISE 

parts and made the tour of the outside of the walls al- 
most dry shod, so quickly does the water vanish when 
the tide goes out, and then came in, thoroughly 
chilled and ready for the savory chicken and legs of 
lamb which were turning slowly on spits in the big, 
open fireplace of the hotel, where we were invited to 
sit and get warm. 

But after dinner, sharp though the sea air was, the 
flooding moonlight was so alluring that we could not 
stay indoors but strolled about until a little after nine, 
when the tide was full, and we took a boat and floated 
around the Mount where, a few hours before, we had 
been walking, and watched the moonlight now re- 
flected in the wavelets where, before dinner, the damp 
sands had been streaked with the sunset colors. In 
the mystic glow, every bit of lacelike carving and 
every pinnacle stood out black against the sky, while 
yet some subtle tenderness in the moonbeams seemed 
to hide the decay of ages and to gild lovingly every 
rough bastion, every flying buttress and traceried 
window, until the ancient sanctuary seemed a thing 
too beautiful ever to have been built by human hands. 
Some one has called the Cathedral at Cologne " frozen 
music " ; surely Mont St. Michel is a symphony in 
stone. 

In the morning we went through the huge pile of 

[ 301 3 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

buildings, begun in 709 bj St. Aubert, Bishop of Ar- 
ranches, at the command of St. Michel, who ap- 
peared to him in a vision, but even prior to that 
time the rock had been a pagan sanctuary. The 
monks were under the protection of the rulers of 
Normandy and in 1066 they furnished six ships to 
William for his conquest of England. Pilgrims re- 
sorted here, then, as they still do, in great numbers, 
and the monastery became very rich and powerful. 
It was a seat of learning and in the twelfth century- 
was called the " city of books.'' In 1469 Louis 
XI founded the knightly order of St. Michel and 
held here its first chapter. At the French Revolu- 
tion the monastery ceased to exist as such and be- 
came a prison, but in 1863 it was again restored 
to religious uses for a while; however, it is now 
preserved as an historical monument of France, 
and is being restored as rapidly as funds are 
available. 

There are many interesting places in the old 
building — cloisters, with beautifully carved pil- 
lars; a refectory, with great fireplaces; and dun- 
geons and prison cells nearly as bad as those of 
Loches, in one of which poor Cardinal de la Balue 
spent another weary period of confinement, though 
a shorter one. A great wheel is shown which was 

[ 302 ] 



MONT ST. MICHEL AND FALAISE 

rigged as a pulley and inside of which six men 
walked on a sort of treadmill, thereby hoisting sup- 
plies up the side of the rock. Beneath the choir 
of the church is a crypt, with nineteen immense 
pillars, twelve feet in diameter; here the restora- 
tion of the carvings is painfully obtrusive; to have 
one's meditations interrupted by falling mortar 
and the whistling of stone-cutters, is hard, and one 
cannot help preferring the broken-nosed saints 
higher up in the building with no marks of recent 
chiselling on their garments. 

But the beauty of the great abbey makes itself 
felt outside rather than within, and we were not 
sorry when the examination of the interior was over 
and we were once more on the rocks watching the 
stealthy creeping in of the tide. Slowly, irresistibly, 
silently, it rippled over the broad beach. To our 
inland eyes it was uncanny, but fascinating, and 
when at last it was at flood again we were loath to 
go away and leave it all. Such a combination of 
majesty and beauty is to be seen, we honestly believe, 
nowhere else on earth. 

By reason of the unfortunate circumstance which 
we have mentioned, we felt, when we saw it for the 
first time, that we had also seen it for the last, but 
now we know that if ever again we should be within 

[303] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

some hundreds of miles of that enchanted spot we 
could not think of passing it hj unvisited. 

It is perhaps well to add, however, in case it may 
be possible to select the time of one's visit, that the 
Mount shows to much better advantage during the 
flood tides, preferably in early September, also that 
there is great danger from the quicksands of the 
beach. It was nearly noon when we turned for a 
last look and then took our way to the popular resort 
of the English, Avranches. But at this late season 
it was deserted and we could see little that seemed 
attractive save the fine beach and the unexpected 
view across the bay of the dim and vision-like Mount. 

Henry II of England came here after his murder 
of Becket to yield himself up to the penance pre- 
scribed by the Pope's legates. He knelt and said; 
" Sir Legates, here is my body, it is in your hands ; 
and know for certain that whatever you order I am 
ready to obey." 

All of which must have made an interesting and 
highly edifying spectacle, but Avranches does not look 
as if it had ever been more than half awake since, 
so we delayed only long enough for luncheon and to 
mend another tire and then took the highroad for 
Falaise. 

We missed the route once and ran quite a dis- 

[304] 



MONT ST. MICHEL AND FALAISE 

tance over winding farm byways, but tbey were 
all well paved and cared for and we came out on 
the main road without diflficulty and reached town 
about six o'clock, bitterly cold and convinced that 
the time to motor abroad is in summer and that 
late September is colder there by far than it is with 
us. 

We created great excitement when we pulled into 
the court of the Hotel Normandy, a sure sign that 
the auto business went to the other hotel, a state 
of things that we could well understand when we 
saw the dinner that was served in the chilly dining- 
room. 

It seemed impossible to get warm, but at last we 
found a neat little parlor with a fireplace and scan- 
dalized the maid by our extravagant request for a 
fire. Forty cents certainly was a high price for the 
diminutive basket of kindling which she brought us, 
but it was cheap enough for the comfort which we 
derived from it. We basked in the warmth and 
read aloud till the wood was gone and then went to 
bed. 

The next day was Sunday and the town was astir 

early. Either it was a holiday, or Sunday is more 

of a gala day here than elsewhere in Erance. The 

young people, six and seven of them, climbed into 

20 [ 305 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

high-wlieeled carts pulled by one big Norman horse 
and clattered shouting down the streets; men with 
band instruments hurried by, and mothers with 
lunch baskets, from which black-necked cider bot- 
tles protruded, waited for conveyances to arrive, 
meanwhile vainly trying to keep order and slapping 
certain members of their broods into submission. A 
circus or a Eourth of July celebration at home would 
produce much the same conditions. 

We had perhaps been travelling too continuously, 
growing unconsciously a little overtired, for some- 
times we found ourselves willing to slight things, 
prone to pass them by with but little interest, though 
we knew we should have been more diligent; but, 
however this may have been in other places, it 
certainly was not for a moment true in Falaise. 

From our childhood we had both admired William 
the Conqueror, so we started out next morning keenly 
interested to see and learn all we could about him 
in the town of his birth. 

We wondered if there was a Fountain of Arlette 
anywhere along that queer old river front that could 
be seen from the chateau, so we sauntered along till 
we came about where we thought it ought to be, then 
asked a child if there was such a foimtain. Charm- 
ingly she answered and trotted ahead to show it to us. 

[ 306 ] 



MONT ST. MICHEL AND FALAISE 

We had proved the first premise of the stor j, — there 
was a fountain and we could see the castle of Eobert 
the Devil, Sixth Duke of E'ormandy, situated just 
above it on a rugged promontory. The fountain 
was located among tan yards and history has it that 
Arlette's father was a tanner. 

Crossing the little stream we found the custodian 
and soon ascended to the castle. It is a ruin, but 
such a sturdy ruin! Trees grow within the court 
that are ages old and yet were planted after it be- 
came a ruin. 

The guide took us at once to the window whence 
Robert is said to have first seen Arlette. There was 
no question but that he could have seen the fountain, 
and as we stood there a girl of sixteen or seventeen 
came and leaned against one side of it and looked 
up at the castle, with perhaps the same interest, or 
lack of interest, that Arlette did nine hundred years 
ago. We could not tell whether she was fair or 
otherwise; either Count Robert (for he had not then 
become Duke) had better eyes than we, or he was 
willing to take chances. !N'ext we examined the 
!N^orman keep, sixty-five feet high and the same in 
breadth, and took a look at the great round Talbots 
tower one hundred and thirty feet in height, and 
now being restored, which was added by the English 

[307] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

in the fifteenth century, so really had nothing to do 
with the hero of the castle. 

Then we came down to a little room lighted only 
by a door, the place in which William the Conqueror 
was bom; a tiny room it was, and practically un- 
furnished at the time of his birth. It is said that 
he grappled with a straw from the pallet on which 
his mother lay and an old nurse tried to take it 
from him, but the wee hand held fast and she cried 
with joy at the good omen and interpreted it loudly, 
^^ What he gets he holds ! " 

It is hard to tell just why some things impress 
us and others do not, but somehow we had not had 
quite this strange feeling since we first dazed down 
on the tomb of I^apoleon in Paris. 'Now looking 
back we seem to see, as if in a luminous mist, the 
stern old tower, the child in the straw, the fountain, 
the impetuous Robert, and the girl who refused to 
go up to her noble lover without a mounted guard, 
such as befitted a noble's wife (though a wife she 
knew she was not to be), and in the magic loom of 
memory, all these things are blended and woven into 
the fabric of one of the brightest days of all that 
happy summer. 

At last we went down into the street where the 

[ 308 ] 



MONT ST. MICHEL AND FALAISE 

citizens have erected a statue of their hero; if he 
was as this ideal he was every inch a man. The 
spirited figure suggested anew the lines which are 
to be seen on the wall of the room of his birth, which 
translated read: 

" Traveller, he who was conceived and was bom 
in this place made himself famous among all the 
Princes of his time by his conquests and by the 
strong feudal institutions which he founded among 
the English people. He was but a barbarian, if we 
judge him by the ideas of our century, but he was 
a very great man if we appreciate him in accord- 
ance with the men and the circumstances amongst 
which he lived. Let us be just, traveller; let us 
see in William the most powerful creative genius 
of the eleventh century, let us bow ourselves re- 
spectfully before the cradle of him who knew how 
to be at once the Conqueror and the Legislator of 
the Old England." 

Time, time is so long! The maid stood at the 
fountain, the lord at the window, the child came 
and conquered, and all are gone; but the fountain 
plays on, the window from which the lord looked 
is still there, and history, nine hundred years after 
those things happened, teaches the school children 

[309] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

of a country not then dreamed of, what took place 
in this little E'orman village, which, except for 
being older and grayer and more worn, is the same 
as when it sounded to the martial tread of William 
Bastardus, Conqueror of England. 



[310] 



CHAPTEK XXIII 

THE LAST EUN 

WE had a flat tire to repair before leaving 
Falaise late that morning and the entire 
force of servants congregated in the court of the 
hotel to watch the change and to assist as much as 
possible with the work. That thej were constantly 
getting in the way, picking up needed tools and 
otherwise delaying us, in no wise detracted from the 
good will of their proffered assistance, and when the 
repair was made they strapped on the baggage and 
we were off for Quilleboeuf and Havre. 

Our tires had been used for about four thousand 
four hundred miles (one thousand perhaps in 
America) and the treads were worn thin, so that 
the nails from the wooden sabots of the peasants, 
instead of sticking in the rubber, were now finding 
their way through and making trouble. Before 
leaving home we had read of a sort of guard which 
fastens closely enough over each casing to catch 
the heads of these nails on the first revolution of 
the wheel and thus throws them out, preventing 

[311] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

punctures of the tires which are usually the result 
of subsequent revolutions, but we had not been able 
to find any for sale; if they do the work they must 
be invaluable. 

Often in examining the tires, as we formed the 
habit of doing at every stop, we would remove from 
three to half a dozen of these heavy headed hob- 
nails. The leather-covered, nail-studded tires used 
so much abroad are said not to be subject to punc- 
tures from this source, and if we were to go again 
we should use them as they are not only puncture 
proof but at the same time furnish a satisfactory 
non-skid device. 

It was a bright fall day, cold enough to make us 
feel that fur coats and robes would be necessary 
if we were to continue our trip into England as we 
had decided to do, if we could not get accommoda- 
tions home. 

The country, well watered and rolling, showed 
every sign of prosperity; that something, referred 
to by stockmen as quality, was apparent in men 
and women as well as in the animals and we felt 
that a good land makes a good people. 

We lunched at the Hotel Normandy in quaint 
old Lisieux whose picturesque timbered houses have 
earned for it the name of " The Chester of France." 

[ 312 ] 



THE LAST RUN 

While at the table we were entertained by an 
elderly English gentleman and his wife, who were 
so greatly interested in the possibilities of the small 
car that we told them of our experiences, thereby 
arousing them to actual enthusiasm. The fact was 
disclosed that he was a Member of Parliament (Mon- 
sieur suggested that most of the House must have 
been spending their holiday in France), and as we 
were leaving they presented their cards and gave 
us a most cordial invitation to visit them if we 
went to England. 

We enjoyed the chat with them, but it shortened 
our time for catching the four-o'clock ferry at Quille- 
boeuf, where we were to cross the Seine for the last 
stretch of our trip to Havre. We therefore opened 
up the throttle and made good time until, stopping 
in Pont Audemer to ask the road, we found that once 
more we had a nail in a thin place and must stop to 
change tubes. 

This took so much time that we left with much 
less than half an hour to do the eleven miles. As 
usual, haste made waste, and we bumped as quickly 
as we could over the cobble-stone streets of the city, 
from time to time calling for directions, without stop- 
ping the car, and in some way took the wrong road, 
not discovering our mistake until we had done almost 

[313] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

the whole distance. It was the worst blunder we had 
made in the entire trip. 

We put about and retraced our way, contenting our- 
selves with being the first of the five cars which took 
the five-o'clock ferry, and found that it answered 
quite as well as the four o'clock one would have done. 

As we were waiting a lady and a pompous little 
Frenchman drove up in a roadster. He jumped out, 
kicked his front tires to make sure that they were 
solid, went to the rear to do the same and before 
he could make the motion, with a loud hiss, one of 
them went flat. He had a spare wheel of the Stepney 
variety which he had never used and but for some 
help from Monsieur could not now have used. He 
worked feverishly and at last by means of tipping the 
captain of the ferry, succeeded in making the boat. 
He was very grateful for the assistance and on the 
boat told us that he was going to Havre, and, as we 
understood, to the same hotel that we were. 

The instant the ferry landed we rushed the car 
up the steep incline and onto the highway leading 
to Havre. Night was approaching and we had forty 
kilometres to go, so we hurried on at twice the speed 
we would have dared to use on the day when first 
we covered this route, and arrived in much less than 
an hour, before the Hotel Moderne and for the last 

[ 314 ] 



J 



THE LAST RUN 

time entered and made the familiar request for a 
room. At dinner we looked momentarily to see 
our friends of the tire trouble, but as they did not 
come, decided that they must have broken down 
again and been obliged to spend the night at some 
wayside inn. We regretted their annoyance and then 
forgot all about them. Later in the week while 
attending the Royal Circus we were surprised to re- 
ceive a hearty greeting from some people in another 
part of the house whom in a moment we recog- 
nized as our lost acquaintances. We went over to 
their seats and they explained that they were resi- 
dents of Havre and lived near, not in, our hotel ; and 
their gratitude for our interest and for the slight 
service rendered them was quite overwhelming. 

It was Sunday evening when we reached Havre 
and Monday morning we overcame our prejudices 
and went to the office of the French Line to see what 
they could do for us in the way of a cabin. By 
great good luck, an excellent outside one had just 
been given up and we accepted it and paid for it 
on the spot, for there was no time to hesitate, as this 
room was on La Savote, sailing the following Satur- 
day, October first. 

Tuesday we reported to the American Express 
Company and were told that if we would turn the 

[315] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

car over to them that evening it could be packed 
and sail also on Saturday, but on a slower boat, La 
Gascoigne, of the French Line. We felt that we 
could by no means give up the car without one more 
run. It was a beautiful afternoon, warm and sunny, 
and we decided not to experiment, but to visit the 
known. To take no chances on our last ride, there- 
fore, we headed for Caudebec and ran out over the 
road on which the boy had started us. 

It seemed old familiar ground. Every town and 
manor house, every thatched cottage and steeple, 
which just two months ago to-day had been so strange 
and new, now seemed to smile a friendly greeting as 
we passed. 

Time will doubtless cause to become blurred and 
indistinct the outlines of many things that now are 
vivid and real to us, but we believe that those two 
days, the bright summer afternoon of our hope and 
the golden autumn one of its fulfilment, will never 
fade away. 

We did not stop till the car rattled into the square 
of Caudebec. Once more we marvelled at the be- 
wildering beauty of the church, once more the ancient 
sagging houses and the glancing Riviere Ste. Ger- 
trude held us spellbound and then as the evening 
began to fall, we cranked the engine and turned 

[316] 



THE LAST RUN 

our reluctant faces westward, each too full of memo- 
ries and regrets to care to talk. 

This time we returned to Havre bj another road, 
in order to see the ruins of the Chateau of Tancar- 
ville. But though they proudly cap their limestone 
cliff, we were content to admire them from below and 
presently drifted on over the floor-like road and into 
Havre again, where we went directly to the office 
of the Express Company and made formal delivery 
to them of the car. 

Good little Car! It had taken us across northern 
France and southern Germany, had crossed the 
mountains of Switzerland from northeast to south- 
west, had followed the Ehone to the sea, had climbed 
the Pyrenees and played through central France 
and N^ormandy, carrying us safely and smoothly with- 
out serious accident or inconvenience, in all thirty- 
four hundred miles ; it had furnished us a summer 
of pure delight and a recollection stored with a ful- 
ness of beauty, history, and pleasure that will en- 
rich our lives through all the coming years. 

Good little Car! Small wonder that we wished 
it a smooth trip home in the hull of the stout 
Gascoigne and left it with the same regret that one 
feels for a faithful friend or a servant who has 
worked long and well. 

[317] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

It pulled out a little behind us from Havre and 
was turned back to us safe and sound in Chicago 
a month later. 

Of the return journey there is no need to speak; 
it was what other ocean voyages and other home- 
comings are. 

But the tour itself we feel was different from the 
great majority; if there was some uncertainty about 
it we learned self-reliance; if there was some work 
there was vastly more enjoyment, and if there was 
expense, there was, we know, more than correspond- 
ing recompense. 



[318] 



CHAPTER XXIV: 

SUGGESTIOIfS 

THE question most often asked ns since our re- 
turn is as to the advisability of taking one's 
car abroad. 

We can make but one answer, whicli is, that were 
we going again we should do as we did this time, — • 
drive an American car. In the first place it is not 
probable that any one but an auto owner would con- 
sider a motor trip abroad, and it is unlikely that 
the small car owner would find it within his means 
to purchase another machine on the other side, for a 
summer's trip. If it were brought back to America 
the duty would be prohibitive, while if resold the 
chances of realizing anything like its value, with the 
circumstances of quick sale a necessity, after the trip 
was finished, would be remote. 

Our car gave us no trouble and our observation 
of the many big American cars which we saw led 
us to believe, that in every way they gave as much 
satisfaction and as little cause for annoyance as the 
foreign ones. 

[319] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

To rent is out of the question, as small cars are 
not usually obtainable and tbe prices charged for 
large ones are unreasonable. To buj a second-band 
car would be to take even more chances, than one 
does here, in a like transaction, and delays and an- 
noyances would soon make any supposed saving 
seem an extravagance. 

A great many American machines are shipped 
over during the season, eight left Havre on the 
same boat as ours and we found no one who ad- 
mitted that he had cause to regret using his own 
car. Therefore, our conclusion, based on our experi- 
ence, our knowledge of conditions there, and the 
reports of others is, that if one expects to drive his 
car, the best way is to take it with him. 

The only possible advantage in using a foreign 
car is the ease with which extra parts can be pro- 
cured and the fact that the mechanicians under- 
stand how to repair the cars with which they are 
familiar, better than those from across the water. 
But a good car on those perfect roads, with careful 
handling will need but few repairs, and except in 
the more remote districts, good garages and com- 
petent machinists are more frequently met with than 
they are here. 

The shipping is a matter for an expert, and as 

[ 320 ] 



SUGGESTIONS 

we have said, we turned this over to the American 
Express Company. 

Their charges from Chicago to Chicago were about 
$380. This included the boxing of the car which 
cost $60, the freight on it to New York, the delivery 
to the Steamship Company, the landing at Havre 
and passing it through the customs, the procuring 
of our driving and car licenses, assistance in Havre, 
storage of the box until our return, and all the ex- 
penses of the return voyage, and delivery to us 
of the car in Chicago. 

Of the remaining $320, freight on this side con- 
sumed $70; the balance was made up of drayage, 
fees at the customs house, steamship freight, and the 
charges of the Company. 

We should certainly not undertake to perform 
these services for ourselves unless it meant a great 
saving. The sense of security which we felt and 
the freedom from anxiety were worth much, and we 
consider the shipping agent almost a necessity. 

Our car was a Courier, now called the Stoddard 
20. It had a four-cylinder motor with an A.L.A.M. 
rating of 22% horse-power, a wheel base of 100 
inches, 32 x 3% quick detachable tires, and was 
equipped with gas lamps, glass front, exhaust horn, 
top and curtains, and a speedometer. The deck after 
21 [ 321 ] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

the removal of the gasoline tank measured 22 x 33 
inches, and we had a small automobile trunk and a 
suit case which exactly filled the space. Two extra 
tire casings and a second tool box were fitted to the 
running board ; in other respects the car was as re- 
ceived from the factory. In the second tool box we 
carried an assortment of extra parts made up by the 
chief engineer of the company, none of which, except 
spark plugs and a leather universal joint sleeve, were 
used. We had three extra inner tubes and the usual 
patches and tools for tire and car repairs. 

Everything we needed for the entire trip on 
land was packed in the auto trunk and suit case. 
At one-night stops, we often left the trunk on the 
car and only had the suit case taken in; at longer 
stops both were carried to our room, usually making 
not too much of a load for one porter. We car- 
ried no evening clothes ; they are not necessary. An 
extra suit for Monsieur and two or three dresses 
for Madame were abundant. Laundry is done in 
twenty-four hours almost everywhere and if new 
things are wanted they can easily be bought. In 
short we took the same clothing that we would on a 
similar trip on this side, save that we allowed for 
the fact that their summers are cooler than ours. 

Monsieur abandoned his hats in Havre and wore 

[322] 



SUGGESTIONS 

through the entire trip a serviceable auto cap; one 
suit was worn in the car, and the use of overalls 
while working in garages kept it presentable; the 
other suit was used at the hotels. 

We had a small box of medicines, a very necessary 
precaution. It is absolutely essential in our opinion 
to plan the itinerary with care in order to prevent 
the loss of time incident to doing it from day to day 
and the disappointments that are bound to follow 
haphazard touring. 

For months before leaving America we read and 
planned what we would see and at the time of sail- 
ing knew substantially where we would go, the length 
of time we would stay and the route from place to 
place and in some cases even the hotels at which we 
would stop. This familiarity with what is to be 
seen and its history creates an anticipation, that adds 
immeasurably to one's enjoyment. We did not per- 
mit our plans to govern us, but from time to time, 
changed them slightly, usually by additions however, 
and in the end saw substantially all that we had ex- 
pected to and many things that we had not. A great 
deal of time was saved by these full notes, for usually 
we had simply to turn to them and in less than half 
an hour, a two-hundred-mile run was clearly before 
us. This preparation was made possible largely by 

[323] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

the use of the Michelin Guide — the most remarkable 
piece of advertising that has ever come to our notice. 
This tire company has printed ^Ye guides, the 
French one, with an English edition, covering 
France, Germany, Switzerland, Belgium and Hol- 
land, Spain and Portugal. These guides mention 
practically every town in the countries ; they describe 
and briefly state the points of interest, the hotels, 
their prices, garages, etc., and the best route from 
the towns described to the next important points in 
every direction. 

In the guide to France there are sixty-seven small 
sectional maps, showing the main roads, their condi- 
tion, whether or not they are picturesque and the 
distance in kilometres from point to point; in ad- 
dition to all this, there is given information of every 
conceivable nature of interest or use to the touring 
autoist. It is a book of about seven hundred pages, 
well bound, and of a handy size, and is given free of 
charge to motorists at any agency of the company. 
It must have cost a large sum in the first instance 
and is revised annually and hence is absolutely re- 
liable. Had it cost ten dollars we could not have 
afforded to do without it. 

On arrival in France we bought the large sectional 
maps known as the Caries Taride, covering the 

[324] 



SUGGESTIONS 

country we expected to see in France and Switzer- 
land; later in Germany we bought the Mittelbach 
maps which are equally good of that country. These 
maps are all of good size and show roads, their con- 
dition, distances, points of danger, and places of his- 
toric interest. They are inexpensive abroad but very 
high here, and it is better to buy them there, as here 
late editions are hard to get. 

The roads are easily followed; they are not built 
on section lines as they commonly are in this country, 
but go from place to place as the angling roads in the 
West do. When one comes to a branch or crossroad 
it goes somewhere definitely, and the sign boards so 
clearly indicate the towns and distances, that with a 
little care one need not often go wrong. 

All the roads are classified according to their im- 
portance. The National Routes are those constructed 
and maintained by the Government; their distances 
are reckoned generally from E'otre Dame at Paris, 
and they connect the most important cities and 
lead the way to foreign capitals. Each kilometre 
is marked by a stone, the front giving the number 
of the Route, the Department it is in, the dis- 
tance from Paris, and the distance to the next im- 
portant city; the sides indicate the next town in 
either direction, and its distance. These Routes are 

[325] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

usually tree-shaded and in most instances are to be 
chosen when possible, though frequently the next 
class, the Departmental E-outes, maintained by the 
Departments and furnishing direct means of com- 
munications between them, are better because less 
travelled. These also have the kilometric stones, 
giving about the same information as those of the 
National Routes. In the next class come the Eoutes 
of Grande Communication; these are always good 
and connect the cities of a Department and are 
maintained by each community, with Government 
aid. 

!N^ext come the Routes of Petite Communication, 
kept up by the people of the locality under the di- 
rection of a Government engineer, and last of all 
come the chemins ruraux, or farm roads, which are 
kept up wholly by the people. The last are narrow 
and wander at will; they are of macadam, and in 
most cases in good repair. One has but to select his 
road, take note of its number, and watch the kilo- 
metric stones to be sure that he will reach his desti- 
nation. There is little difficulty, but it is not im- 
possible, in the interest of the way, to forget to notice 
the flying stones and to go astray. 

A power horn of some kind is necessary. The 
roads are often narrow and there is at times con- 

[326] 



SUGGESTIONS 

siderable traffic and it is impossible to clear the 
way promptly with, the usual hand horn. We had 
an exhaust whistle which was only fairly satis- 
factory. A signal, loud and peremptory, is of great 
advantage and will soon repay extra cost, if it 
works well and makes plenty of noise, by the saving 
of time which it will effect in giving notice of one's 
coming far in advance. Cow and ox teams are slow 
and, though the driver may be willing, it takes some 
time to turn aside. 

A kilometre is, roughly speaking, five-eighths of a 
mile, and we used our American speedometer, re- 
ducing the kilometres to miles by dividing by eight 
and multiplying by ^ve. If absolute accuracy is de- 
sired, for any reason, multiply the kilometres by .621 
and the result will be the distance in miles. 

Another question constantly asked is whether or 
not the languages are necessary. Frankly we do 
not know. Madame spoke both French and German, 
the latter her own brand but very serviceable, and 
Monsieur soon picked up the most necessary words. 
Occasionally we found English spoken in hotels, but 
rarely in the more remote places. We met some 
people motoring who spoke only English and would 
do so ourselves under like circumstances if neces- 
sary, but it is of the greatest assistance to have even 

[327] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

a little French and German. The money is quickly 
learned and the proper prices for necessaries, and 
there is little desire to take advantage of the stran- 
ger's ignorance in the ordinary matters, nor did we 
find prices raised because we arrived by motor. 

Time, money, and fondness of the water must 
govern the line chosen in crossing; personally we 
would prefer second, if necessary, on a fast boat to 
the bridal suite on a slow one. But whatever line is 
chosen it is well to go in May or June and to return 
before the last of September, as the early mornings 
and late afternoons are too cool before or after that 
for comfort. Also, we have learned that it is well to 
reserve return passage two or three weeks earlier than 
one really expects to want it; it is easy to exchange 
to a later date, but next to impossible to get an 
earlier reservation; one travels faster by auto than 
by train, or, rather, no time is lost waiting after 
one is ready to leave a place, and unexpectedly one 
gains time constantly. 

The foreign duties, license fees, and regulations 
are interesting to intending motorists; none of these 
are serious annoyances. 

Some time before our departure Monsieur pro- 
vided the Express Company with five small pictures 
of himself and with a description of the car, and 

[328] 



SUGGESTIONS 

on our arrival we found that thej had deposited the 
duty, amounting to $144.27, the receipt for which 
provided that it should be refunded to us on taking 
the car from the country. They had also the license 
for the car, the numbers ready and on it, and the 
driving license, which after giving the age, place of 
birth, and other interesting facts about Monsieur, 
had in one comer his picture. These licenses cost 
$8.30, and this was not repaid. 'No examination 
was taken, in fact we had nothing whatever to do 
with the French customs or procuring the licenses. 
It is possible for members of the Touring Club of 
France to deposit with it the amount of the duty 
for all the countries to be visited, in advance, and 
thereon to receive a triptyque, a sort of receipt in 
three parts, one to be given up on entering the 
country, one on leaving, and the third to be used in 
taking up the deposit. This we did not use and 
should not, were we going again, as it is little ad- 
vantage and means a considerable outlay in the first 
instance. 

Before leaving Havre, we had our French driver's 
license viseed by the German consul, which permitted 
us to drive in Germany; this cost $3.00. When we 
left France for Germany we presented our French 
receipt to the French customs officer and he noted 

[329] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

the date of our departure thereon and charged a 
few cents for doing it. At the German frontier 
we deposited a duty of $39.25, and received a receipt 
providing for its return and also paid a tax on the 
car of $8.00, and a German number was attached to 
the car. At the Swiss frontier the German officer 
returned our deposit, took up his number, and we 
paid the Swiss duty of $77.60; no tax or license fee 
or number was required here. On' leaving Switzer- 
land, this was returned and the French officer noted 
on our original receipt the date of our return to 
France. The day we left France we gave the agent 
of the American Express Company our French re- 
ceipt; he collected the deposit and remitted the 
amount thereof to the Chicago branch, which paid 
it to us in due time. The whole operation did 
not take much longer than to read this description 
of it. 

The laws relative to driving are about the same 
there as here and the careful driver will not be likely 
to have trouble. In Switzerland, one must observe 
to the letter the regulations as to speed. But they 
are reasonable, and the danger to all concerned justi- 
fies the heavy fines inflicted on those who disregard 
them. 

In the thirty-four hundred miles which we trav- 

[330] 



SUGGESTIONS 

eled we had absolutely no trouble with the authori- 
ties, because we carefully observed their rules at 
all times. Care and consideration for the rights 
of others detract but little from the day's pleasure 
and pay in the end, for a Swiss judge accepts no 
excuses and the first fine is usually $40 to $50, and, 
as the Irishman would say, " The second fine is a 
jail sentence.'^ 

The excellent roads are a constant invitation to 
rapid driving, and where the way is level, every one 
drives much faster than on this side, but in the 
mountains of Switzerland it is well to exercise every 
precaution for one's own and others' safety, and, 
failing to do this, complaint is unjust if arrest and 
fine follow. Warning is given, by large signs, of 
the speed regulations before chance of liability is 
incurred. 

It pays too, to keep good-natured, even when the 
provocation is great. It is a long way from home 
and one is at a great disadvantage. A smile goes a 
good deal farther there than here and we found 
every one ready to meet us more than half way in 
politeness or in anger. We obeyed the laws and 
took no chances; it is so much better to be careful 
than sorry. 

We had a good deal of tire trouble largely on ac- 

[331] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

count of the nails dropped from the wooden shoes. 
While our tires stood the wear as well as those made 
over there, punctures could not be avoided. If go- 
ing again we should take with us an engine tire 
pump. Tires in American sizes can be had there, 
but thej are fully as high priced as here. We for- 
got onlj one thing that we needed in the way of 
supplies and that was valve parts for our inner 
tubes; these commenced to leak and then we dis- 
covered that the Trench valve is of a different con- 
struction and that we could not get parts to repair 
ours. We had difficulty in getting our tubes fitted 
with new valves of the French sort, which were rather 
expensive, though of course we still have them and 
they are better than the American ones. A dollar 
invested in these parts before leaving would have 
saved delay and annoyance. 

If one has old tires it is well to take them, and on 
arrival buy new ones, getting the leather antiskids for 
the rear wheels ; this does away with carrying chains, 
which, by the way, we used but twice in our entire 
trip. 

Gasoline and oil are high. We paid from forty 
to fifty cents a gallon; it comes in five-litre sealed 
cans and is of fine quality; while we invariably 
strained it, we never discovered the slightest evidence 

[332] 



SUGGESTIONS 

of adulteration. A litre equals .2642 of a gallon. 
The roads are so perfect and the gasoline of such 
good quality, that our mileage averaged, mountain 
climhing and all, twenty-four miles plus to the 
gallon. Gasoline can be bought everywhere; the 
hotels always have it and we even saw it for sale at 
farmhouses by the roads. 

Cylinder oil gave us great trouble at first; it was 
very thick, heavy and dark, but in a few days we 
learned the names of several light brands which were 
excellent ; these oils were sold in two-litre cans, sealed, 
and cost about $1.20 per gallon. 

The charge for washing, polishing, and garage 
service was much less than on this side, about 
in proportion as hotels and other things are cheaper. 
In France it was unusual to find a hotel without 
a garage or suitable place to put the car, and gen- 
erally without charge; in Germany often we had 
to put it in a public garage and the hotels always 
charged from one to two marks for the accommoda- 
tions when they had it. 

We had heard that a feeling of ill will existed 
toward American cars, but we saw nothing of it; 
on the contrary any new features, such as the quick 
detachable tires, were heartily admired and we did 
not take the slightest precaution to protect the car, 

[333] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

either when left on the streets or in the garages ; the 
hood was not locked, but we never found the slightest 
evidence that it had been opened or anything 
touched. 

Everywhere, save in Switzerland, we found good 
feeling and a desire to assist and it was seldom that 
a passing car did not slow down and ask if it could do 
anything to help us, if we seemed in trouble, — a very 
courteous custom and one which we found much more 
general abroad than here and which we were not slow 
in adopting. 

Hotels are among the most important things to 
be considered in travel abroad. One does not real- 
ize the extent of the influence of a good hotel on 
his enjoyment until he has spent a season constantly 
changing and discovers that his impressions of 
things and places are colored by his hotel accommo- 
dations. Every one has noticed how often people 
who have been abroad discuss hotels and meals, and 
those who have not been find this intensely amusing. 
But those who have tried it know that upon the selec- 
tion of an hotel often hangs a day's pleasure. The 
most interesting things in Europe can not hold one's 
attention in the midst of unsanitary or uncomfortable 
surroundings and poor meals. France has few poor 
hotels and is filled with good ones and every tour- 

[334] 



SUGGESTIONS 

ist centre has a number as fine as any in Am erica; 
some of these we have tried and found them as com- 
plete and satisfactory as in Chicago or "New York — ■ 
and equally uninteresting. They are filled, not with 
the natives and the local color that one goes abroad 
to get, but with tourists like oneself, and in them 
waiters, cuisine, management, and prices are practi- 
cally the same as at home. We determined to shun 
such and go to the hotels patronized by the natives in 
order to observe their manners and customs and almost 
without exception we did so. That we missed many 
pleasant hours with our countrymen there can be 
no doubt, but in seeing the people we had gone abroad 
to see and in becoming more intimately acquainted 
with their national life, we received full compensa- 
tion. We found these hotels cheaper, by far, than 
like accommodations at home. In fact we have no 
such accommodations or meals as we found there, at 
any price, in the smaller places, and while there were 
exceptions, one must not expect too much for an 
average cost of two dollars a day each. It was in 
the higher priced, larger, and more pretentious places 
that we met most often with disagreeable features. 
The Frenchman loves to practise what he styles the 
" little economies '' and is willing to bargain for a 
five-franc room, even though he has arrived in a 

[335] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

seven-passenger ear, accompanied by a chauffeur, and 
we found that it paid to follow, to some extent, his 
example. 

We looked up the hotels in Baedeker and the 
Michelin Guide, endeavoring to go to those centrally 
located and near to the things we wanted to see; 
those were chosen, other things being equal, which 
had a free garage. We always looked at a room be- 
fore accepting it and had no hesitancy in object- 
ing to it, if it did not suit, or if the price was too 
high. Usually the proprietor was as anxious to 
please us as we were to be pleased, and in the end if, 
for any reason, we were not satisfied, we returned to 
the car and went elsewhere. For a stay of more than 
a day, if we did not like our accommodations after 
trying them, we ascertained where we could get 
what we wanted, and moved, a small matter with our 
limited amount of baggage and ever-ready car. 

We have never found tipping a great annoyance 
abroad nor had the disagreeable experiences that 
friends going to the so-called " American " hotels 
have had. We soon learned what the natives did 
and gave but little more and in most cases all of it 
had been earned. 

The foreign hotel system is very different from 
ours. There the femme de chamhre, or chamber 

[336] 



SUGGESTIONS 

maid, has a whole floor to care for, assisted by the 
valet de chamhre. These two care for these rooms 
and the personal requirements of their occupants 
exclusively, shine the shoes, deliver the baggage, and 
take it from the rooms on the guests' departure. In 
general they are obliging, hard-working people, whose 
living largely depends on their ability to please. 
Often they are warm-hearted, honestly interested in 
the stranger, and unselfishly glad to do all possible 
to make him have a good time. 

The head waiter is more of a personage there than 
here; he cares for guests at meals, and with him one 
settles the bills. The concierge assists with advice 
and suggestions as to what to see and how to get there, 
buys one's theatre tickets, and generally endeavors to 
make the stay a pleasant one. The man in charge 
of the garage helps with the car and with road in- 
formation, often to the extent of riding to the edge 
of the to^vn to get one well started on the right route. 
These we tipped, at about French rates and left them 
always pleased and satisfied. Ten per cent of the 
bill was usually sufficient to cover everything, 
though when spending but a short time we some- 
times exceeded this amount, which the natives rarely 
do. 

We have heard of long lines of previously unseen 

[33Y] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

servants waiting with outstretched palms at the door 
at the guests' departure, but we have never seen it. 
We have seldom been imposed upon in any way by 
servants, and these few times were in the hotels fre- 
quented by our country men and women, who can- 
not practise the " small economies " and hesitate at 
the small tip for fear of losing the respect of the 
servant, who, as a matter of fact, in most cases holds 
them in extreme contempt because of their useless 
waste of money. This is a mistake, by the way, 
which the English never make and yet they are al- 
ways well served and respected. To the Frenchman 
the tip is payment for service willingly performed; 
he does not view it as a gift and the servant accepts it 
upon the same basis. 

Advice as to the manner of selecting a hotel can- 
not be specific, but if local color is desired one must 
go to the hotels patronized by the natives. These 
few points it is well to observe : if inexperienced, as- 
sume to know a little more of their ways than the 
facts justify; be reasonable and keep good-natured, 
if things go wrong. Under no circumstances attempt 
to change their methods or to order unusual things; 
they are not adaptable and do business with a class 
who do not require the things we are used to here 
and they at once become awkward and high-priced if 

[ 338 ] 



SUGGESTIONS 

obliged to deviate from their usual customs. If one 
cannot be adaptable oneself and take pleasure in do- 
ing their ways and eating their dishes, it is wiser 
by all means, to go to the regular tourist hotels, for, 
as has been said, one's enjoyment is largely dependent 
upon the inn keeper with whom one deals. 

We had been members of the American Automo- 
bile Association for a year or more before going 
abroad, and in regard to our trip they rendered us 
some assistance, the most substantial parts being the 
$15 discount allowed us by the Express Company 
because of our membership, and the procuring for us 
of membership in the Touring Club of France. It 
is a good thing to be identified with some organization, 
national in its scope, in case it should be advantageous 
to call on like associations for assistance abroad, and 
we felt that our membership paid us well. 

The Touring Club of France membership is as 
valuable as one cares to make it. As we did not go 
to Paris we were not in close touch with it and did 
not get the full benefit of our membership. The 
fact that we had planned our trip so well before go- 
ing made it, except on one occasion, unnecessary to 
call on the organization for touring information, but 
the reply to our inquiry was prompt and gave us just 
the help we needed when we wanted it badly. By 

[339] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

some mistake the list of hotels and the guide published 
by the club, though we paid for them, never reached 
us. We discovered that at hotels where the dis- 
count of ten to twenty per cent was allowed to mem- 
bers, the management insisted upon being shown the 
card of membership before giving their rates, and 
as we felt, made the charge enough larger to cover 
the discount. So we soon made our own bargains and 
disregarded this feature of supposed advantage. 

We believed that if we were in trouble the Club 
would come to our aid and, as we were obliged by 
law to have a plate on the car, giving the owner's 
name and address, we bought this of the Club and 
received its emblem with the name and address en- 
graved around the edge. This was fastened to the 
glass front, and possibly its notice of our membership 
served to warn those with whom we dealt not to at- 
tempt to wrong us for fear of becoming engaged in a 
most unequal warfare with that powerful organiza- 
tion of two hundred and fifty thousand members. 

But, disregarding convenience, and the question of 
whether the $1.30 we paid for membership was re- 
turned in personal benefit, every motorist touring 
abroad should join this Club. He would be a very 
selfish person who could use hourly its valuable signs, 
indicating not only towns and distances, but every 

[340] 



SUGGESTIONS 

point of interest and danger along the route, and 
not want to contribute a little to its treasury and 
be identified witb its great work, wbicb is so wide 
in scope that it concerns itself not only with routes, 
signs, and rates at hotels for its members, but obliges 
the hotels to offer more sanitary rooms and toilet 
facilities, contributes largely toward improvement of 
roads, exploits new or neglected places of interest, 
and in many ways conduces to the comfort and pleas- 
ure of travellers. So true is this that many who 
are touring in the ordinary way, by train, join this 
body, that they may be able to avail themselves of 
its benefits. 

We had expected to take out indemnity insurance, 
thinking that driving in strange lands under new 
rules and regulations might result in accidents, even 
though we should be careful, but we delayed having 
it written in Havre until too late and soon found 
that we needed it no more abroad than at home. If 
one carries insurance here, the same reasons exist for 
it abroad, but no more, and we should not indulge 
were we going again. The rule of the road is to 
turn to the right, in Erance, Germany, and Switzer- 
land ; in England it is to turn to the left and in Italy 
it varies in different cities and localities, and save 
for the very rapid driving which the perfect roads 

[341] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

induce, the chances of accident seem, if anything, 
less than here. 

The things we have mentioned cover the usual 
questions which have been asked us since our return, 
with one exception — that of cost. Every one as- 
sumes that a tour of Europe in an automobile, even 
though a small one, involves great expense. Like 
everything else one can make it as expensive as he de- 
sires, but unlike the tour by train one cannot cut 
expenses to the minimum. To travel in an auto, even 
a little one, is to travel first-class, and with much 
more than the train's advantages. Usually one does 
not remain at hotels long enough to profit by the five- 
days' pension rate, and tips are generally as high 
for two days as for five. The little savings cannot 
be accomplished and one must look for compensation 
in the nearer view and the more extended knowledge 
of persons and things that one gets from the car. 
But, in fact, a little care and consideration of expen- 
ditures will keep them down greatly, and we feel that 
we received a hundred cents on the dollar for every 
one that we left abroad. 

It is much more expensive to tour Europe in a car 
from Illinois than from the East. The shipping of 
the car from Chicago to !N'ew York and back added 
$70 to our bill in freight alone and no doubt truckage 

[342] 



SUGGESTIONS 

and like items added $30 more for it is no small job 
to load a thirtj-five hundred pound box and unload 
it from train to steamer. Then the expense of travel 
from Chicago to the boat and return exceeded a hun- 
dred dollars, so that our expenses for car and selves 
to Havre and return to Chicago before we had turned 
a wheel were $950, which could be cut bj Eastern 
people in half without omitting any comfort or pleas- 
ure that we had. We realize that this is nothing to 
boast about, but it was as cheap as we could figure 
it from our locality, and, in view of the high cost of 
everything, about as reasonable as the things that we 
did can comfortably be done. Expense could un- 
doubtedly have been saved by driving the car to 
Boston and there shipping it ourselves, but the annoy- 
ance and risk would have been greater and the in- 
creased time we could not afford. We know that the 
Express Company was high but it was the best we 
could do after considerable investigation of prices, 
and we do not regret using it. 

From Havre to Havre our expenses were compara- 
tively low; $575 covered everything except certain 
purchases which had nothing to do with the trip and 
were not used until we reached this side. 

The entire trip from Chicago can be easily and 
delightfully made with no sacrifice of proper pride 

[343] 



ABROAD IN A RUNABOUT 

or comfort for $1550, well within the expenditures 
of an ordinary trip abroad for two people, as we 
said in our introduction. 

But it was no ordinary trip abroad which we took, 
to us it was and must always be extraordinary. It 
is possible that we may have failed, nay, hardly prob- 
able that we can have succeeded in making clear what 
this trip has meant to us ; the long happy days in the 
open, the strange sights, the mild but interesting ad- 
ventures, the sense of doing it ourselves and coming 
out all right in the end — these can not be described, 
they must be felt to be rightly understood. 

And that they are pleasures which you, who have 
found sufficient interest in these pages to read thus 
far, may soon make your own and that you may enjoy 
all that we did, and more, is the cordial wish of the 
two in the runabout. 



THE END 



INDEX 



A 

Admiralty Hotel, Havre, 4 

Aigle, 141, 142 

Aigues Mortes, 175, 204, 205, 
208, 209 

Aliscamps, Avenue of the 
Dead, 192 

Alzou, gorge of river, 249 

Ambassadeurs, Hotel des, Ca- 
hors, 248 

Ambassadeurs, Hotel des, Le 
Puy, 155 

Amboise, town and castle, 
270-273, 284 

American Automobile Asso- 
ciation, 339 

American cars, how regarded 
on Continent, 333 

Americans and English, com- 
parison between, 118 

Amorbach, 56-61 

Angers, 187, 293, 295-298 

Anis, Mt., 156 

Anne of Brittany, story of, 
262, 271-273, 277, 289 

Arget River, 227 

Ari^ge River, 227 

Aries, 188-192, 200 

Arlette, mother of William 
the Conqueror, story of, 
306-310 



Auch, 244 

Aude River, 221 

Augsburg, 75-78, 80 

Austrian frontier, customs 
on, 115 

Automobile used on trip, 
packing, transportation, re- 
pairs, care of, etc., 1, 2, 4- 
6, 8, 26, 27, 30, 32, 39, 40, 
47, 48, 55-57, 83, 101-110, 
134-141, 146, 147, 186, 218- 
221, 241, 242, 257-260, 282, 
283, 311-313, 315-322, 328- 
333, 339, 342, 343 

Automobiles, driving license 
for, 6, 329; giving the road 
to, in France and Germany, 
45; garages for, 51, 333; 
how considered in France 
and Germany, 55; in Mu- 
nich, 84, 85; mountain 
climbing with, 102-105, 
218-220, 246; flags dis- 
played on, 105, 106; moun- 
tain goats only animals 
afraid of, 135 

Avignon, 166-172, 175, 176, 
178, 180 

Avignon, Grand Hotel d' 
Avignon, 166, 171 

Avranches, 304 



[345] 



INDEX 



Axat, 222 

Azay le Rideau, 290-293 

B 

Bad (Bath) Hotel, Uberlin- 

gen, 116-119 
Baedeker, hotels recommended 

by, 149, 166, 233, 245, 295, 

336 
Baedeker, quoted, 57, 163, 183 
Baggage carried for trip, 5, 

6, 322, 323 
Bagneres de Bigorre, 235, 236 
Bagnols sur C&ze, 166 
Baiersoyern, 102, 103 
Balue, Cardinal Jean de la, 

story of, 279, 280, 302 
Bavarian Highlands, 86, 112 
Beaucaire, 185, 187 
Beaulieu, 281 

Beauregard, chateau of, 269 
Beauvais, 25-28 
Beer of Munich, 82 
Bellegarde, 148 
Benoit, Hotel, Foix, 226-228 
Berry, chateau of, 270 
Beziers, 211 
Blanc, Mont, 146 
Blois, chateau and town of, 

261-267, 273 
Blois, Grand Hotel de, Blois, 

261 
Bold Cock, Verdun, 42, 44 
Bon-bon, French, rarely seen, 

44 
Bonivard, Francis, prisoner 

of Chillon, story of, 144 



Boulet, Le Port, 294 
Bourgtheroulde, Hotel, Rouen, 

19 
Brioche, cake, 28, 29 
British Isles, travelling in, 1 
Brittany, curious custom of, 

79 
Brive, 257 

Brunig Pass, 133, 141 
Bull fights, 184, 189-191 

C 

Cahors, 248 

Camargue, the, 200-202, 204 

Candy, American, English, 

and French, 43 
Canet, 214 
Carcassonne, Cite and Ville- 

basse, 67, 175, 208, 221- 

225 
Cartes Taride, 6, 49, 243, 324 
Catalan, language spoken at 

Perpignan, 214 
Catherine de Medici, story of, 

263, 265, 272, 274 
Caudebec en Caux, 9, 10, 316 
Cauterets, 234 
Cavaillon, Bishop of, friend 

of Petrarch, and his castle, 

174 
Cavelier, Robert (La Salle), 

baptismal record of, 21 
Chambord, chateau of, 267, 

268, 271 
Champagne cellars, 41 
Chaumont, chateau, 270, 274 
Cheeses, excellent, 29 



[346] 



INDEX 



Chenonceaux, chateau of, 273- 

275 
" Chester of France "— Li- 

sieux, 312 
Cheverny, chateau of, 269 
Chillon, castle of, 143, 144 
Chinon, national forest of, 

293 
Cider, Normandy, 19, 298 
Clarens, 144 
Cliff dwellers, 14 
Cliffs, cellars for cheese and 

wine in, 14, 41 
Coal mining district of 

France, 151-154 
Cointet, Madame Lepel, ruins 

in grounds of chateau of, 

11 
Cologne, cathedral of, 301 
Colosseum at Rome, compar- 
ison with, 184, 191 
Compi^gne, 30 
Compiegne, forest of, 32 
Constance, Lake, 116, 117 
Continental, Hotel, Rheims, 

37 
Cook, profits from Oberam- 

mergau for, 90 
Cormery, abbey at, 281 
Corneille, Rock of, 156 
Cornflowers, 64 
Cost of trip, 342-344 
Coucy le Chateau, 35, 36 
Coudray, chateau de, 293 
Cows yoked for field work, 

and their value, 159, 160 



Crau, plain of the, 195, 198- 

201 
Cripples, conditions which 

cause, 46 
Crosses, unsuitably placed, 

281 
Cruas, 164 
Customs, between France and 

Germany, 44, 329, 330; at 

Austrian frontier, 115; at 

Swiss frontier, 120-125, 

330 

D 

Decazeville, 152 

Dent du Midi, 141, 145 

Deutsches Theater, Munich, 

81 
Diemersteiner forest, 49 
Dragees, Verdun candy, 43 
Duclair, 12 
Diirkheim, 49 

E 

Eisenhut, Hotel zum, Rothen- 
burg, 67 

Enamels of Limoges, 260 

England, rule of the road in, 
341 

English and Americans, com- 
parison between, 118 

English spoken in Zurich, 
130; in French hotels, 327 

Enguerrand's story (Coucy le 
Chateau), 35, 36 

Etrangers, Hotel des, Lyons, 
149 



[347] 



-^y* 



INDEX 



Elrangers, Hotel des, Pierre- 

fonds, 32 
Ettal hill, on road to Ober- 

ammergau, 86 
Europe, Hotel de 1', Avignon, 

166 

F 

Faisan, Hotel du, Tours, 285 

Falaise, 304-306, 311 

Fauzen, see Fiissen. 

Fern Pass, 110 

Field work performed by men, 
women, children, cows, and 
dogs, 46, 159, 160 

Figuier, quoted, 209 

Fire escapes, lack of, 42 

Firminy, 154 

Fishguard, landing at, 2 

Flag on automobile, 105, 106 

Foix, 226-228 

Forum, Hotel du, Aries, 188 

Fournier, James, builder of 
Papal Palace, Avignon, 168 

France et d' Angleterre, Ho- 
tel de, Beauvais, 25 

France, tires used in, 5, 332; 
maps of, 6, 49, 243, 324, 
336; roads of, see Roads, 
French; cheeses in, 29; 
candy in, 43; formalities of 
crossing frontier of, 44, 
329, 330; changes observed 
on German border of, 45, 
55; automobiles in, 45, 51, 
55, 333; field poppies in, 
63; coal mining district of. 



151-154; race suicide in, 
152; limestone district of, 
165; bull fights in, 190; 
Benedictine monasteries in, 
194; courtesy of peasants of, 
205, 230; development of, 
209, 247; military system 
of, 214-216; language in, 
214, 287, 327; children in, 
216; best seen from auto- 
mobile, 246, 247; popula- 
tion of, 247; payment of 
war debt by, 247; city and 
country types in, 247; 
statues of Virgin in, 281; 
hotels in, 334; rule of the 
road in, 341 

Franco-Prussian War, battle- 
fields of, 45 

French language, first docu- 
ment in which used, 43; 
along Spanish frontier, 
214; in Tours, 287; tour- 
ists need to be familiar 
with, 327 

French Revolution, havoc 
wrought by, 12, 194, 277 

Friedrichshafen, 116 

Fugger, Jakob, rich weaver of 
Augsburg, 77, 78 

Fuggerei, Augsburg, 77 

Fussen, 101, 102, 109-111 

G 

Gaillard, Chateau, Petit An- 

dely, 22 
Gaillingen, 121 



[ 348 ] 



INDEX 



Gasoline and oil, prices, and 
where obtainable, 332, 333 

Gasthof zum Hirsch, Ftissen, 
110 

Gavarnie, Cirque de, 234 

Genety, 15, 16 

Geneva, 147, 148 

Geneva, Lake, 142 

Germanic Museum, Nurem- 
berg, 75 

Germany, driving license for, 
6, 329, 330; changes ob- 
served on crossing French 
border into, 45; automo- 
biling in, 45, 51, 55; field 
work and cripples in, 46; 
road making in, 46, 55; 
garage charges in, 51, 333; 
summers in, 54; *' Haltes- 
telle " posts in, 64, 65 ; me- 
diaeval relics in, 66, 67 ; 
pedestrian tours in, 79; 
certain roads forbidden to 
automobiles in, 106; army 
of, 216; children in, 216; 
directions and advice to 
motorists in, 230; rule of 
the road in, 341 

Gier River, 151 

Gisors, 24 

Giswil, 134 

Givors, 151 

Golden Eagle, Nuremberg, 71 

Golden Lion, Hotel of the, 
Amboise, 270, 284 

Golden Lion, Hotel of the, 
Langeais, 288 



Golden Lion, Hotel of the, 
Rocamadour, 250 

Gouflfre de Padirac, 254-256 

Grand Hotel, Angers, 295 

Grand Hotel, Montpellier, 210 

Grand Hotel, Perpignan, 213, 
214 

Great clock (Grosse Horloge), 
tower of the, Rouen, 19 

Griinwald, Grand Hotel, Mu- 
nich, 80, 81 

Guide books, see Michelin 
Guide; Maps, road; Cartes 
Taride; Mittelbach road 
maps 

Guise, Duke de, story of, 264, 
265 

Gypsies at Les Saintes Ma- 
ries, 203, 204; about Per- 
pignan, 217 

H 

Hachette, Jeanne, statue of, 
Beauvais, 26 

" Haltestelle " posts in Ger- 
many, 64, 65 

Harfleur, 8 

Haricot beans, 37 

Hauptstuhl, 47 

Havre, 1, 3, 4, 314, 315 

Heidelberg, 51-53, 60 

Heidelberg castle, 52 

Hergiswil, 133 

" Hill, the worst in Europe," 
102-105 
. Hofbrauhaus, Munich, 82 

Hohenegg, 140 



[ 349] 



INDEX 



Hohensehwangau Castle, Fiis- 

sen, 112 
Holy Cross, Chapel of the, 

195 
Horn necessary to motorist, 

326, 327 
Hotels — 

Admiralty, Hotel, Havre, 4 
Ambassadeurs, Hotel des, 

Cahors, 248 
Ambassadeurs, Hotel des, 

Le Puy, 155 
Aries, hotels of, 188 
Avignon, Grand Hotel d', 

Avignon, 166, 171 
Bad (Bath) Hotel, t!berlin- 

gen, 116-119 
Benott, Hotel, Foix, 226- 

22g 
Blois, Grand Hotel de, 

Blois, 261 
Bold Cock, Verdun, 42, 44 
Bourgtheroulde, Hotel, 

Rouen, 19 
Continental, Hotel, Rheims, 

37 
Eisenhut, Hotel zum, Roth- 

enburg, 67 
Strangers, Hotel des, 

Lyons, 148 
Etrangers, Hotel des, 

Pierrefonds, 32 
Europe, Hotel de 1', Avig- 
non, 166 
Faisan, Hotel du. Tours, 

285 



Hotels — continued. 
Forum, Hotel du, Aries, 188 
France et 1' Angleterre, 

Hotel de, Beauvais, 25 
Gasthof zum Hirsch, Fus- 

sen, 110 
Golden Eagle, Nuremberg, 

71 
Golden Lion, Hotel of the, 

Amboise, 270, 284 
Golden Lion, Hotel of the, 

Langeais, 288 
Golden Lion, Hotel of the, 

Rocamadeur, 250 
Grand Hotel, Angers, 295 
Grand Hotel, Montpellier, 

210 
Grand Hotel, Perpignan, 

213, 214 
Griinwald, Grand Hotel, 

Munich, 80, 81 
Louvre, Hotel du, Bagnols 

sur Ceze, 166 
Midi, Hotel du, Montau- 

ban, 244, 245 
Moderne, Hotel, Havre, 314 
Moderne, Hotel, Tarbes, 

233, 234 
Monopole, Hotel, Geneva, 

147 
Musee, Hotel du. La Voulte 

sur Rhone, 162 
Normandy, Hotel, Falaise, 

305 
Normandy, Hotel, Lisieux, 

312 
Osterbichl, Hotel, Oberam- 

mergau, 87 



[350] 



INDEX 



Hotels — continued. 

Park, Hotel, Diirkheim, 49 
Pont, Hotel du, Interlaken, 

136 
Pont, Hotel du, Vevey, 145 
Post, Hotel zur, Amorbach, 

57, 59 
Poste, Hotel de la, Duclair, 

12 
Provence, Hotel de, St. 

Remy, 199, 200 
Selirieder, Hotel, Heidel- 
berg, 51 
Schwan, Hotel, Kaiserslau- 

tern, 48 
White Horse, Hotel of the, 

Nimes, 183, 184 
White Lamb, Hotel of the, 

Augsburg, 76 
Hotels, curious names of, 71; 
of Loire Valley, 275; Eng- 
lish spoken in, 327; impor- 
tance of, and suggestions 
concerning, 334-336, 338 
Hughes, John, quoted, 149 



Indre River, 281, 291 

Insurance for motorists, 341 

Interlaken, 136, 140 

Iron Virgin, Nuremberg cas- 
tle, 74 

Italy, rule of the road in, 341 

Itinerary, importance of plan- 
ning, 323 

J 

James, Henry, quoted, 168 



Janvier, Thomas A., at St. 

Remy, 200 
Jean d' Arc, story of, 265, 

266, 277, 293, 294 
JumiSges, abbey of, 11, 15 

K 

Kaiserslautern, 48 
Kilometre stones, 13 
Kilometres, measuring by, 327 
Kofel peak, seen from Ober- 
ammergau, 86, 87 



Lace-makers, French, 154 
Lafayette, statue of, Le Puy, 

158 
La Hire and Jean d' Are, 

story of, 265, 266 
Langeais, chateau of, 288- 

290, 293 
Languages needed by motor- 
ists, 327 
La Remuee, 8 
La Ricamarie, 153 
La Salle (Robert Cavelier), 

baptismal record of, 21 
Laufen, Castle, Neuhausen, 

126 
Laura, beloved of Petrarch, 

her story, 172, 173 
Lausanne, 142, 146 
Laval, 298, 299 
La Voulte sur Rhone, 161- 

163 
Lech River, 111 
Le Chambon Feugerolles, 154 



[351] 



INDEX 



Le Puy, 155-158, 249, 250 

Les Andelys, 22 

Les Baux, 195-198 

Les Gausses, region of, 248, 

249 
Les Mosses, 140, 141 
Les Saintes Maries, 200, 202- 

204 
Le Tiel, 164, 165 
Lillebonne, 8, 114 
Limestone district of France, 

165 
Limoges, 257-260 
Lindau, 115, 116 
Lisieux, 312 
Loches, 275-281, 302 
Loire Valley, a paradise for 

motorists, 275, 276 
Lourdes, 236-241 
Louvre, Hotel du, Bagnols 

sur Ceze, 166 
Ludwig II of Bavaria, 113, 

114 
Lunel, 211 
Luynes, 287, 288 
Lyons, 149-151 

M 

Main, Biver, 62 

Maison Carree, Nimes, 183, 

184 
Mannheim, 50 
Maps, road, 5, 6, 49, 229, 243, 

324 
Mars la Tour, 44, 45 
Martel, — explored Gouffre de 

Padirac, 255 



Mary Queen of Scots, 272 
Mascaret, tidal wave in Seine, 

10 
Maz d' Azil, 228, 230 
Meersburg, 116 
" Meistertrunk, Der," story 

of, 69 
Merlans, small fish, 17 
Metz, 45 

Miehelin Air Bottle, 26, 27 
Michelin Guide, 324, 336 
Midi, Hotel du, Montauban, 

244, 245 
Military system of France, 

214-216 
Miltenberg, 62 
Ministrol, 154 
Mistral, Frederic, 198 
Mistral, the, 165, 170, 174, 

180, 218 
Mittelbaeh road maps, 49, 

325 
Moderne, Hotel, Havre, 314 
Moderne, Hotel, Tarbes, 233, 

234 
Money, foreign, 328 
Monopole, Hotel, Geneva, 147 
Montauban, 244, 245 
Montbazon, 281 
Montelimar, 164 
Mont Louis, 218, 220, 221 
Montmajeur, Abbey of, 194, 

195 
Montpellier, 209, 210, 245 
Montr ejeau, 231 
Montreux, 142, 143 
Motorists, how treated in 

France and Germany, 55; 



[ 352] 



INDEX 



Loire Valley a paradise 
for, 275, 276; power horn 
needed by, 326, 327; lan- 
guages spoken by, 327; 
prices not raised for, 328; 
insurance for, 341 

Mountain climbing with au- 
tomobile, 102-105, 133-135, 
218-220, 246 

Munich, 80-85 

Murnau, 86 

Mus6e, Hotel du, La Voulte 
sur Rhone, 162 

Music boxes at Castle Laufen, 
126 

N 

Nantua, 149 

Narbonne, 211 

Neuhausen, and falls of the 

Rhine at, 120, 126, 127 
Neuschwanstein, Castle of, 

112-114 
Nijni-Novgorod, fair of, 187 
Nimes, 181, 183-185, 190 
Normandy, Hotel, Falaise, 

305 
Normandy, Hotel, Lisieux, 

312 
Nougat from Mont6limar, 164 
Noyon, 34, 35 
Nuremberg, 71-75, 175 
**Nuremberg eggs'' 

(watches), 72 

O 

Oberammergau and the Pas- 
sion Play, 86-101 



Ochsenfurt, 65 
Octroi, tax, 17 

Odenwald, forests of the, 56 
Onzain, 270, 279 
Orchards, cider, 9, 298 
Ostcrbichl, Hotel, Oberammer- 
gau, 87 

P 

Padirae, Gouffre de, 254-256 

Pannesac, Tour, 158 

Papal Palace, Avignon, 167, 
168 

Pappenheim, 75, 76 

Park, Hotel, Durkheim, 49 

Parsival, airship, 83 

Passion Play, see Oberammer- 
gau and the Passion Play 

Patti, quoted regarding Pas- 
sion Play, 95 

Pedestrian tours in Germany, 
79 

Pennell, Elizabeth Robbins, 
quoted, 249 

Perpignan, 213, 214, 217, 218 

" Personally conducted " par- 
ties, 52, 77 

Petit Andely, 22, 114 

Petrarch, quoted, 168; story 
of, 172-174 

Pierrefonds, 32-34, 36 

Pinakothek, Munich, 81 

Pommery, Veuve, Company, 
champagne caves of, 41 

Pont de Mars, 159, 100 

Pont du Gard, 181, 182, 185 

Pont, Hotel du, Interlaken, 
136 



[ 353] 



INDEX 



Pont, Hotel du, Vevey, 145 

Pont St. Esprit, 166 

Post, Hotel zur, Amorbaeh, 57, 
59 

Poste, Hotel de la, Duclair, 
12 

Poverty of peasants, 64 

Prices not raised for motor- 
ists, 328 

Prisoners' Tower, Gisors, 24 

Provence, Hotel de, St. Remy, 
199, 200 

Pyrenees, 231 



Quillan, 222 



Q 



R 



Remoulins, 181 

Rene, King, castle of, 187 

Rheims, 37-39 

Richelieu, castles destroyed by, 

227 
Road, rule of the, in different 

countries, 341 
Roads forbidden to motors, 

106 
Roads, French, 13, 55, 211, 

276, 325, 326 
Roads, German, 46, 55 
Robert the Devil, story of, 

307-310 
Rocamadour, 246, 249-253 
Rochemaure, 164 
Rocher des Doms, Avignon, 

169, 171 



Roman ruins and relics, 8, 73, 

181, 182-184, 188, 189, 199, 

222, 231 
Rome, crosses unsuitably 

placed in, 282 
Rothenburg, 66-70, 175, 297 
Rottenbuch, 103 
Rouen, 16-21 
Rougemont, 140 
Roumare, forest of, 15 
Ruz6, Henry de, chateau of, 

288 

S 

St. Agr^ve, 159 

St. Amadour, of Rocamadour, 

story of, 250 
St. Andre, fort of, Villeneuve 

les Avignon, 176 
St. Benezet, bridge of, 169, 

176, 177 
St. Bertrand de Comminges, 

231, 232 
St. Chamond, 151 
St. Etienne, 153 
St. Gaudens, 231 
St. Georges de Boscherville, 

abbey of, 14 
St. Georges, gorge of, 222 
St. Girons, 230 
St. Jean des Vignes, abbey of, 

Soissons, 37 
St. Lizier, 231 
St. Louis at Aigues Mortes, 

story of, 208 
St. Magnus, stick of, 111 
St. Martin de Boscherville, 14 
St. Martory, 231 



[354] 



INDEX 



St. Michel d' Aiguilhe, church 

of, 156, 157 
St. Michel, Mont, 299-304 
St. Remy, 188, 199, 200 
St. E.6my, church of, Rheims, 

40 
St. Romain, 8 
St. Wandrille, abbey of, 11 
Ste. Menehould, 41 
Salies du Salat, 231 
" Saucy Castle," Richard 

Coeur de Lion's, Petit An- 

dely, 22, 114 
Saumur, 294, 295 
Schneider, Herr, of Gasthof 

zum Hirsch, Fussen, 110 
Schrieder, Hotel, Heidelberg, 

51 
Schwan, Hotel, Kaiserslau- 

tern, 48 
Schwanstein Castle, see Ho- 

henschwangau Castle 
Seine River, 10, 22, 23 
Shadowy Valley (gorge of 

river Alzou), 249 
Shrine, wayside, near Fussen, 

115 
Silv6real, 204 

Six, Carl, of Fussen, 110, 241 
Skinner, Otis, quoted regard- 
ing Passion Play, 95 
Soissons, 37 
Sorgue River, 173, 174 
Soubirous, Bernadette, of 

Lourdes, story of, 236 
Sterne, and town of Montau- 

ban, 245 



Street- car system of Munich, 
85 

Swans at Castle Neuschwan- 
stein, 113, 263 

Switzerland, maps of, 6; cus- 
toms on frontier of, 120- 
125, 330; the international 
playground, 130; antago- 
nism to motors in, 230, 334 ; 
speed regulations in, 330, 
331; rule of road in, 341 



Tancarville, chateau of, 317 

Tarascon, 186-188 

Tarbes, 232-235, 241 

Terre Noire, 153 

Thaingen, 120 

Tipping, 336-338 

Tires, detachable, 5, 253, 258, 

333 
Tires, used on trip, 311, 312, 

331, 332 
Torture, implements of, 74, 

278-280 
Touring Club of France, 243, 

329, 339-341 
Tourists, 52, 77, 84 
Tours, cathedral and town, 

273, 2S2, 284-287 
Toussaint, abbey church of, 

296 
Towns, difficulty in getting 

out of, 299 
Tramontanay wind from Pyr- 
enees, 218 



[355 ] 



INDEX 



Troglodytes, cliffs hollowed 

by, 14 
Twain, Mark, quoted, 21, 52 
Tyrolean costumes, 78, 79 

U 

tJberlingen, 116, 119 



Valencay, chateau of, 261 

Valentr6, bridge of, over river 
Lot, 248 

Valves, of American and for- 
eign makes, 258-260, 332 

Vaucluse, Fountain of, and 
story of Petrarch, 172-174 

Verdun, 42, 43 

Vevey, 144, 145 

Victor, Cafe, Rouen, 17 

Villeneuve les Avignon, 167, 
169, 175, 176 

Viollet le Due, 33, 35, 222, 
225 

Virgin, statues of, unsuitably 
placed, 281 

Viviers sur Rhone, 165 



W 

Watches called " Nuremberg 
eggs," 72 

White Horse, Hotel of the, 
Mmes, 183, 184 

^^'hite Lamb, Hotel of the, 
Augsburg, 76 

William the Conqueror, story 
of, 302, 306-310 

Wine casks, and wine, 211, 
212 

Women engaged in field work, 
46; their quickness in an- 
swering questions, 65; in 
various employments in 
Munich, 85; as hotel run- 
ners, 250 



Young, Arthur, quoted, 201, 
211 



Z 



Zeppelin airships, 116, 119 
Zurich, 128-132 



[356] 



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